“Yes, oh please,” she groaned, wanting him to move those fingers just a tiny bit more so he could slip one inside her.
He shifted her to try to grant her unspoken wish, but the rough brick of the building scraped her hip, scratching her sharply. Lulu hissed in pain.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry.” He immediately pulled her away from the wall, still holding her tightly, her legs around his hips. “I wouldn’t hurt that magnificent ass for anything—not when all I want to do is nibble it.”
“I’m not sorry,” she said, pressing frantic kisses on his mouth. “It’s worth it, and you can nibble away.” Feeling the cold air against her exposed bottom, she giggled. “Though it is a little cold.”
“I guess we should go.”
“Just get me to the nearest warm place and finish what you started,” she urged, not sure she’d have the patience to walk blocks at this point. Nor that her legs would carry her.
Chaz turned to glance around. If a seedy, rent-by-the-room hotel had been across the street, she would have raced him to it, but no such luck.
Still, a smile crossed his lips. Lulu followed his stare, seeing his gaze had landed on the door of the credit union. It had an after-hours key-card lock for customers to use the ATM in the vestibule. He studied it for a moment, then looked at her and lifted a suggestive brow.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, her tone amused and a little taunting. Was she egging him on? She honestly wasn’t sure.
“Watch me.”
“A camera will be watching you.”
He glanced back toward the bar they’d left. “Damn. I forgot my sheet. We can’t be unidentifiable ghost and witch.”
“You would pull a sheet over us, take me in there and...?”
“Oh, hell yes. Right this very minute.” He edged closer to the door. “Of course, maybe we don’t need the sheet. If we’re very careful, and you keep your mask on....”
“Are you an exhibitionist?” she asked, half shocked, more than half aroused. The vestibule was fully exposed right inside the building, and fairly well lit. Though nobody was around to watch, there could be at any moment.
“Honestly, I don’t give a flying fuck who sees us. I just want to touch you, get my fingers in you, see if you’re as tight and wet as I think you are.”
She had to close her eyes as more blood rerouted toward her sex. The man was intoxicating and aggressive, nothing like the boy she’d known, and his demands rang with sexual confidence.
“But there must be cameras,” she said, her protest sounding weak to even her ears.
“There’s just one in the machine, recording anybody right in front of it. It can’t catch all the corners and sides.”
“Are you sure?”
“I bank here. I’m pretty sure. But we can go in and check.”
She felt herself weakening.
“Just a quick exploration,” he begged, kissing her throat, then scraping the tip of his tongue down to the tops of her breasts. “Throw a starving man a bone so I’ll have the strength to get us back to my place. I’ll carry you home, just like this, and save you from those wicked shoes, if I can just take a tour of your delicious body right now.”
She held on tight, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she urged him on. “Do it.”
Letting her down, he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to the front of the building. “I’ve never been more glad that I bank here,” he said as he pulled out his wallet.
He removed his debit card, and swiped it in the card reader to unlock the door. She waited as he pulled it open and ushered her in. They were like fish in a bowl, encased in glass, visible to anyone lurking nearby.
She should have been shocked, nervous and ready to bolt. But the utter wickedness of it thrilled her. She hadn’t done anything this daring for as long as she could remember, and the sheer riskiness of it urged her on almost as much as her hunger for him. She needed his hands on her, his mouth on her, but a part of her—the part that had been focused on school and work and hadn’t spared a moment for sex—almost wanted to be seen.
She didn’t spot a soul nearby, and they were surrounded by dark, closed businesses, but they were near lots of parked cars and were only a few buildings up from the bar they’d left.
And then there was the camera. She spotted it embedded in the top of the machine, pointing directly out to catch whoever was standing in front of the ATM. Chaz was already in line with it, and she had to be at least partly visible. No doubt they were already being recorded. But he was right about the tiny neighborhood bank’s security. There were no other cameras in sight—no black domes on the ceiling or in the corners, just the one wired within the ATM, facing out, at about eye level.
They might really get away with this.
“Come here,” Chaz ordered, beckoning her over. “Stand right there, with your back against the wall.”
Understanding what he had in mind, she turned around and backed into the corner directly beside the ATM. It couldn’t possibly capture her image; she was side-by-side with the thing. And if there were any inside cameras, she was completely blocked from them by the interior wall between the vestibule and the lobby.
“I think I’ll check my balance,” Chaz said with a wicked grin as he inserted his card, eyeing her and not the screen.
“I suspect you’ve hit the jackpot,” she teased.
He didn’t even look over at her, exploring only by touch. Shifting slightly to further block the camera’s view of his actions, he reached for her, scraping his fingers across her jaw, her lips, then tracing a line straight down her throat. She felt the touch down to her very toes, wishing his mouth would follow the same trajectory.
When he reached her bustier, he easily untied it, one-handed. She arched toward him, loving the brush of his warm skin against the sensitive curves. Drawing the laces, he loosened the whole top until it sagged open, and then, only then, did he glance away from the screen to stare at her.
“God almighty,” he whispered, sounding nearly reverent. His eyes were dark with want. His muscles bunched under his shirt and his jaw clenched as he struggled to maintain control. Lulu had never seen a look of such pure, unadulterated want in anyone’s face before.
She couldn’t manage to say a thing as he reached for her breast, cupping it, squeezing gently, stroking his thumb over her hard, sensitized nipple. She was dying for his mouth, but he remained several inches away, pretending to focus only on the cash machine, while secretly pleasuring her just out of sight.
The man’s patience stunned her; she was ready to say screw the camera and leap on him, pull his mouth to her breast and beg him to taste her. But he kept his cool, still blocking her from view of the camera, and from anyone who might walk up to the front of the vestibule.
The side, of course, was another story. She was looking right out into the parking lot, and if somebody approached from that way, they’d notice her standing inside, her top hanging open, her breasts freed and heavy, being caressed by a man who definitely knew how to use his hands.
“Damn, I forgot my pin number,” he said with a chuckle. “You distracted me.”
“Keep trying, you’ll get it sooner or later,” she whispered as she reached down and tugged her skirt up, inch by inch.
He shifted his gaze and watched, hunger dripping from him as he dropped his hand and stroked his way down her belly and between her legs. He cupped her sex and she arched into his touch, dying, spinning, flying, all at the same time. He felt so good, his touch so possessive, as if he were staking his claim to what lay beneath his hand.
“You’re