Only You by K.T. Quinn

20

Molly

The Day I Got Even

There came a knock on the dividing door between our rooms. “Room service.”

I opened the door and found Donovan standing there, holding two plates of food. “Probably best to avoid the balcony, right?”

“It looks like it’s about to pour,” I agreed.

He handed a plate to me and we stood in our respective rooms, at a loss for what to do. Then Donovan sat on the ground in his room, resting his back against the wall next to the door. I could see his legs sticking out, and his arm, but that was about it.

“Wouldn’t want to break your rule about going in your room.” He jabbed his wine glass into the doorway. “Wine me.”

I filled it with red liquid and said, “This bottle was very dusty, so I’m assuming it’s expensive.”

“Grazie,” he said in an exaggerated Italian accent. “Expensive wine is my second-favorite kind.”

I sat down next to the divider with my back against the wall, just like Donovan was doing on his side. “What’s your favorite kind?”

“Free wine.”

I laughed and said, “This is expensive and free. So you should really like it.”

“A double-whammy.”

The pork loin was tender and the apple glaze complimented it perfectly, with a delicious combination of sweet and salty. Every bite tasted like heaven, and I wolfed it down as rain began to patter against the glass windows.

“This wine is definitely better than the stuff we were drinking before,” Donovan said from his room.

“That was cheap wine I bought in the duty-free section of the airport. My girlfriends aren’t picky, they just like to get drunk. Sara especially. I love her to pieces, but a nice bottle of wine would be wasted on her.”

“Sara sounds like a lot of fun. Can I get her number?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

“I bet she’s a rule breaker,” Donovan said with a laugh. “She’d probably let me into her room.”

“That’s true, but she’s currently five thousand miles away.”

He sighed dramatically. “Our love isn’t meant to be.”

I took a long gulp of wine, hesitated, and then said, “You can eat in my room, if you want.”

“Woah, let’s not get carried away,” he teased. “I know how you are about the rules. I’m staying put.”

He’s toying with me again, I thought. Just like last night.

The memory reignited my curiosity. I drank the rest of my glass of wine, poured myself a refill, and then dove headfirst into the topic I’d been avoiding all day.

“So, Donovan.”

“So, Molly.”

“What happened last night?”

I heard him chuckle. “We had a good time. We danced. We kissed. We did other stuff. You don’t remember?”

“Of course I remember. What I meant was, what happened after that? We were having a lot of fun, and you were doing very nice things with your fingers, which made me scream so loudly that I probably woke the Pope. Then you just… left.”

“Your screams reminded me of being yelled at in the lobby, actually,” he replied. “It was very traumatizing, you know.”

I groaned. “Now you’ve done it. I’m embarrassed all over again and I’m going to hide in my room until the pandemic is over.”

“It was fun while it lasted.”

We laughed together. It felt good to laugh about it.

“Seriously, though. Why the sudden departure? And don’t you dare say it was my rule about the room, because I was giving you every signal to come inside.”

He was quiet for a few seconds while he ate. I heard silverware scraping against his plate.

“You know what the secret to a good appetizer is?” He finally asked.

“Is this going to be a cooking metaphor?” I asked.

“The secret,” he went on as if I hadn’t spoken, “is for the appetizer to be good, but don’t let it be too good. It can’t overshadow the main course. You want to leave people hungry for more.”

“Yep, a cooking metaphor.” I sipped more wine because it helped me talk openly. “I guess I’m just surprised. You were as hard as a rock. Don’t guys get, like, blue balls?”

“Just because a guy gets hard,” Donovan said, “doesn’t mean they have to finish.”

“Now I know you’re lying!”

“It’s the truth. At least, it is for me.”

I put down my empty plate and turned to face the doorway. He was wearing jeans. I was turned on from thinking about last night, and the urge to charge through the door and climb into his lap was strong. He wouldn’t have been able to walk away, then.

But then another idea came to me. An idea that would help me repay what he had done last night.

I reached through the door and around the corner. My fingers found his bicep, hard and warm beneath the soft fabric of his shirt.

Donovan snorted. “Copping a feel through the door? I feel used. Here, at least let me flex for you.”

His bicep bulged underneath my fingers. I gave it another squeeze, but that wasn’t the part of his body I was looking for. I pressed my cheek against the wall and reached farther until I felt the front of his jeans. I blindly unbuttoned them and pulled down the zipper.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Donovan said slowly. “I don’t mind being used.”

There’s no going back now, I thought.

I bit my lip and reached into his pants, underneath his boxer-briefs. And then I found it. The dick he’d flaunted in front of the hot tub yesterday, which had been pressed against my ass while we played pool and when we danced last night. It was smooth and warm and thick, and within seconds it grew fully hard in my fingers.

I pulled it out of his pants and began caressing his shaft in long, slow strokes.

He let out a long sigh on the other side of the door. “A few days ago you were awkwardly watching me in the pool, too nervous to join me. Now you’re doing this?”

“The key difference is wine,” I breathed. My fingers tightened. “How do you like it?”

“Your pink fingernails are very nice.”

“And do you like what those fingers are doing?”

“Yeah,” he said in a husky voice. “I like it a lot.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this, I thought. I’m jacking him off through the door.

I had never been naughty like this before, but the wine was giving me a perfect buzz and there was nothing in the world I wanted more than to please Donovan, to make him feel the way he made me feel last night when I cried and gasped in his arms on the balcony.

He groaned deeply as I stroked him faster. I could sense his body reacting to my touch; he pushed his hips up against my fingers, and his back rubbed against our shared wall. Even though I couldn’t see him, I pictured what he looked like in that moment. Leaning against the wall, cock sticking out the front of his pants. Closing his eyes, parting his lips, and letting out a long moan. The muscles of his arms flexing in his tight T-shirt as he came closer and closer…

And then I was imagining what we could be doing. Instead of stroking him I could be riding him. Lowering myself onto him, allowing his thickness to part my lips. Surrendering to gravity and letting him fill me. Clenching him inside of me while I grabbed a handful of his thick black hair and tilted his head back so I could kiss his neck in that sexy spot right above his Adam’s apple.

Soon I was panting as heavily as he was on the other side of the doorway.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed. He was grinding into my hand now, like he was getting close. His skin was hot underneath my fingers and he was gasping like he’d just swam a mile in the pool. His groaning intensified, filling the air with the sweet sound of his pleasure.

Finally he roared with ecstasy, and his shaft pulsed between my fingers. I felt his come drizzle over my hand, hot and sticky, while he continued moaning and trembling underneath my touch. He clutched my arm while he climaxed, begging me not to let go. As his grunts and gasps dissipated I slowed down, then eventually stopped. I gave his shaft another loving squeeze before pulling my hand back. Ropes of milky white covered my fingers, giving me another tingling sensation of naughtiness.

“You’re right,” I said. “It’s fun to bend the rules a little bit.”

Donovan’s face appeared in the doorway, more handsome than ever. He flashed me a perfect inviting smile and said, “Come over to my room and we can break the rules together.”

Oh, it was tempting! I wanted nothing more than to mount him where he sat. To be filled by him rather than simply touching him…

But he had already left me hanging last night, and it was a game that two people could play.

“The secret to a good appetizer,” I said sweetly, “is to leave the customer hungry for the main course.”

With a big smile on my face, I closed the door and went to wash my hand.