YOUR PLACE OR MINE?

JUNIPER:

“You’ve got some nerve, baby girl,” he states in a gruff tone as his eyes rake over me.

He takes a slow sip from his glass, his gaze never leaving mine.

“No human female has been this bold.” He places the glass down while I stand there with my heart pounding, but I don’t care what he is blabbering about; I want to get over this.

Leaning forward slightly, I let the neckline of my dress dip further, revealing more of the smooth skin between my breasts. His eyes flicker down for just a second, darkening with hunger before they meet mine again.

“Your place or mine?” I ask, trying to uphold the false confidence in my voice.

A slow and dangerous smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, which makes my skin tingle.

“Don’t play with me, baby girl,” he warns as he leans back in his seat. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

I roll my eyes and make to stand, but before I can fully rise, his hand shoots out, wrapping around my wrist.

“My place,” he says, and a small smile spreads across my lips.

I grab the drink on the table, downing it in one go because I need the fire of alcohol to drown out the fear rising in my chest.

We move quickly outside, slipping into the back of his car.

“What’s the name?” he asks calmly, and I rack my head for a fake name, but none is coming.

“Gloria,” my middle name pops out of my mouth.

“Call me, Mr. H.” He kisses the back of my palm. “More wine?” he asks, and I nod.

He pours another glass, but instead of handing it to me, he tips it, slowly pouring the red liquid down my chest. I gasp as the wine soaks into the fabric of my dress with my mouth parting in surprise as the cool liquid runs down between my breasts, and his eyes follow the path hungrily.

“Guess I’ll have to clean that up.”

Without hesitation, his lips press softly against the curve of my neck, trailing lower, following the line of wine as he kisses along my skin. His mouth hovers over the hollow of my throat for a moment, and he tastes the wine off my skin.

I can hardly breathe as his kisses turn into nips, each one sending jolts of pleasure coursing through my body. With one swift motion, he rips the sleeve of my dress, exposing my shoulder.

Hungrily, he devours it as one hand moves between my thighs, and the heat of his palm radiates through the thin fabric of my panties. My body responds instinctively, a soft gasp escaping my lips as I arch into his touch.

I bite my lip as his fingers slide beneath the fabric, gathering the wet mess he has made.

“Don’t punish yourself, love,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “I want to hear that sexy voice of yours.”

I shudder, my breath coming in short gasps as his fingers trail around my core. Suddenly, a sharp pain courses through me, causing my body to jerk. I grip his arm, gasping as the pain radiates from deep inside.

“That’s just two fingers, love,” he whispers as his voice burns raw with desire. “How will you handle my entire length?”

I swallow hard.

“You can back away now.” He drags his fingers out, and I watch as he brings them to his lips, sliding it into his mouth, tasting me with his eyes boring in mine. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

His voice sends a thrill of excitement through my body as he slowly pulls away from me. At that moment, the car comes to a halt, and the driver lets him know we have arrived.

“So, what’s it…” Before he can finish, I grab him by his tie, pulling him toward me, muttering the words, “I want you to fuck me!”

**

I stir from my slumber, waking up to a sore neck and a loud headache which has pain radiating through my body. As I try to remember what happened the previous night, all I can remember is the bar and—

“I lost my virginity to a stranger!” I scream, looking down to see I am in a tee.

I push my body up from the bed, sliding my hand underneath to find my panties missing.

I try to shove two fingers into it, but it is tighter than ever, and it hurts badly.

“Ouch!” I scream, and the door in front of me flies open, allowing me to take in the view of the hottest man I have seen in my entire life in nothing but a towel hanging dangerously low on his waist.

My eyes can’t tear away from him. Water droplets still glisten on his tanned, muscular chest, sliding down the ridges of his tatted abs. His dark hair is damp, messily framing that rugged face, and those eyes—God, those eyes.

“Why the hell are you yelling?” his angered tone draws my attention to reality, and I see that his beautiful face becomes disrupted with a frown.

My mouth opens to form a sentence.

“And aren’t you supposed to be gone by now? Do you not understand what a one-night stand is? Or do you whores not know when to leave?” he grits his teeth, moving toward me.

‘Whore’—that word slams right into my chest, but before I can process it, he grabs my hands and pulls me off the bed, then he lets go of me as I fight so hard to regain my balance on the floor.

“I want you to be gone by the time I am done dressing, or I will get security to throw you the fuck out!”

That tone! It is just like Cillian’s the previous night. The memories flood in, and I try to hold back my tears because I do not want to cry in front of this man, but my tears fall.

“Why are you crying now?” he asks as I throw on the bottom of my gown, which is nothing more than a skirt now. “Is it money you want? Here, here, take it!” He grabs a wad of cash, throwing it in my face, then I stand still by the door, and he grabs my hand, pushing me out and slamming it right in my face.

His words hurt me, and by now, I have a buildup of tears in my eyes, which makes my vision blurry. His words seem heavier than Cillian’s, and I want to stop and cry, but my phone beeps at once, showing an email from my new professor.

“Get me the list of students attending this class, and I hope to see you all in an hour.”

This reminds me that there is no time for a twenty-year-old unfuckable nerd like me to cry. I pause for a while in the hallway of the hotel to send a reply, but as soon as my eyes catch his display profile, I feel the floor beneath me being snatched from my legs.

“It can’t be,” I murmur…