Only for Your Touch (Lick series) by Naima Simone

Author:Naima Simone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled; Scorched; erotica; erotic; erotic romance; Naima Simone; novella; Boston; Opposites attract; bad boy; good girl; fling; bad boy reformed
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC (Scorched)
Published: 2016-09-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

For the third night in a row, Corrine arrived at Lick. This time, she arrived by taxi, changing up her mode of transportation as Sasha had instructed her. And she’d also switched up her hair. She grinned to herself, patting the ebony wig, the ends of the bob brushing her chin. An illicit thrill spiraled through her. This was the stuff Cinemax movies were made of, and in a really freaking odd twist of fate, she’d ended up the star.

As the cab pulled up to the back of the club—again, as Sasha had instructed—a door under a plain black awning swung open, and Sasha stood in the doorway. Her heart thudded against her sternum, and desire kindled inside her. As if her body immediately recognized the man who could make it sing, make it explode in the sweetest pleasure imaginable. Just looking at him was foreplay.

Foreplay for her, anyway.

Two nights in a row—first in the alley, then in The Loft the evening before—Sasha had introduced her to a pleasure that had damn near fried her brain. And not once, not one damn time, had he allowed her to touch him. It didn’t take a sexual savant to know this was…odd. Unless he didn’t want her to… Immediately, she ditched the thought, just as she had countless times last night as she lay in bed, the doubts crowding her like the people on Lick’s dance floor. He may not have let her caress him, but his erection had prodded her ass last night when he’d held her against him. He’d definitely been aroused…so what the hell?

At some point in the wee hours of the morning, she’d reached a conclusion. His aversion to her hands on him had everything to do with control. It was about maintaining distance. Well, that shit wasn’t going to cut it. The two times they’d been together, he’d stolen her control. And how could she be distant with his fingers buried in her sex? It was incredibly lopsided and unfair that he have the upper hand in this…this…whatever they were doing.

That ended tonight—tonight he would be just as shattered as she.

Resolution solidified inside her as the taxi braked. Even before the driver put the car in park, Sasha was beside the vehicle, waiting to escort her from the car to the club entrance. Tearing her embarrassingly rapt attention from him, she reached for her purse to pay the driver, but Sasha opened the door and held his hand out to her.

“I just need to—”

“I have it,” he countered, his hand still extended.

She slipped hers in his, and with a quick word to the cab driver, he led her inside the building. Waiting in the vestibule with the Old North Church photograph while Sasha left to pay her fare, she closed her eyes, images from the previous two nights running through her brain like a movie reel. The alley where he’d bound her with his belt and finger-fucked her. The playroom where he’d brought her such pleasure with his mouth in front of a roomful of people.

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