Jody was a fine man—tall, broad-shouldered, with smooth brown skin and a freshly shaven bald head that gleamed under the streetlights. There was something effortlessly magnetic about him, a quiet confidence that drew attention without him having to say a word. Wherever he went, admiring eyes followed, especially from the opposite sex. It wasn’t just his looks—it was his presence. Commanding, calm, and cool.
Tonight, he rolled up in his jet-black sedan and found a spot right outside the club everyone at work had been raving about all week. They said it was the place to be on a Friday night, and Jody figured he’d see what the hype was about. As he stepped out of the car, the bass from the music inside pulsed through the pavement, thick enough to feel in his chest.
The line had been short, and now inside, he was pleased to see it wasn’t overly crowded—just the right amount of energy. Enough people to feel alive, not so many that it felt like a mosh pit. The lighting was moody and rich, with deep red and purple hues casting shadows across the room. Laughter mingled with the music, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional shout from someone greeting a friend.
Jody made his way through the crowd, drawing a few double-takes as he passed, and settled on a seat at the bar. It offered the perfect vantage point—he could see the dance floor, the booths, and the entrance. He ordered a pineapple juice—no alcohol tonight. He was on call, and he liked to keep his head clear anyway.
The bartender slid the drink toward him with a smile, clearly intrigued. Jody gave a polite nod, lifting the glass to his lips. The cool, sweet juice hit the spot. He leaned back slightly, relaxed but alert, his eyes scanning the room. Every now and then, he caught someone looking—lingering glances, subtle smirks, bold stares. He returned a few of the flirty smiles, his own slow and easy, the kind that lingered in your thoughts long after.
He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He was just trying to relax a little after the work week.
Jody nursed his pineapple juice as the night unfolded around him, the energy in the club rising with every track the DJ spun. A smooth mix of old-school R&B and new-age soul kept the vibe sultry, and the dim lighting gave everything a golden glow that shimmered against dark skin and sequined dresses.
Feeling the rhythm call to him, Jody finally slid off his barstool, his tall frame unfolding with easy grace. He made his way onto the dance floor, where bodies swayed in sync with the beat. He didn’t rush—Jody never moved like he was in a hurry. When he stepped into the crowd, it parted naturally, like water around a stone, as if people instinctively knew to make space.
He found himself dancing with a woman in a sleek green dress, curves for days and a smile that dared him to keep up. She laughed, tossing her curls over one shoulder as she matched his rhythm. Jody wasn’t flashy—his moves were smooth, grounded in confidence. He knew how to move his body just enough to draw you in, to make you feel like the only one in the room. They danced close, but not too close, just enough for the tension to build.
Another song came on, more upbeat this time, and someone else tapped his shoulder—a woman with red lips and a bold attitude who insisted on a turn. Jody chuckled and nodded, graciously switching partners. He didn’t stop moving, letting the music guide him from one woman to the next. Each one brought a new energy, a new rhythm, and Jody met them all with charm and poise.
By the third song, the dance floor had all but paused around him. People were watching. Some whispered behind their drinks, others outright stared. He wasn’t showing off, but there was no denying it—Jody had it. That magnetic pull had gone from subtle to undeniable.
Sweat beaded at his temple, glistening beneath the soft lights, but he didn’t mind. This—this energy, this attention, this effortless charisma—it was all just another night for him.
He finally eased his way off the floor, laughing softly to himself as he waved off the next eager invitation with a charming, “Gimme a minute, beautiful.”
On his way back to the bar, hands reached out—some playful, some lingering—light touches on his arm or his back. Compliments trailed behind him like perfume.
“You got moves, baby.”
“Where you from?”
“Don’t disappear on us now.”
Jody just smiled, sliding back onto his stool and lifting his glass in a casual toast to no one in particular. He caught his reflection in the mirror behind the bar—cool, collected, completely in his element.
Yeah. This was his kind of night. By now, Jody was fully in his element. The club pulsed around him—dim lights casting everything in shades of heat and desire, music threading through the room like a slow heartbeat. His second pineapple juice was nearly gone, but he wasn’t missing the liquor one bit. He felt sharp, alive, and in full control of the moment.
Women came and went, lingering beside him with flirtatious smiles and soft touches. One slid her number into his palm and whispered, “Call me tonight—not tomorrow.” Another tugged on his hand playfully, trying to lure him back to the dance floor. Jody laughed them off with charm, not in a rush. He had time. He had options.
He was just about to stand and stretch when a man appeared beside him—mid-thirties, neat button-down, tailored jeans, not too flashy but clearly intentional. Jody had noticed him earlier, hanging back near the bar, moving without much purpose but always staying within a few feet of where Jody happened to be.
“Hey man,” the guy said, sliding in close enough that Jody had to shift slightly. “You really had the floor going earlier.”
Jody gave a polite nod. “Appreciate that.”
The man extended a hand. “Trevor.”
“Jody.”
They shook briefly, and Jody turned back toward the bar. He didn’t feel like small talk, especially not with someone whose energy was already coming off sideways. Still, he stayed cool.
“You come here a lot?” Trevor asked, casually leaning against the counter.
“First time,” Jody replied, eyes scanning the room again.
Trevor nodded like that meant something. “Good spot. Real laid-back. You get a little bit of everything here.”
There was something in his tone—like he was talking in code, testing the waters without saying what he really meant. Jody didn’t bite.
“Yeah. Not bad,” he said simply.
Trevor let the silence stretch for a moment, his gaze lingering—not on the crowd, not on the women, but on Jody. There was no open aggression, no real edge, just… a strange stillness. Something just off-center. Jody had been around enough people, enough places, to know when somebody was circling a point they didn’t quite have the nerve to say out loud.
“You local?” Trevor asked next.
Jody side-eyed him. “Around.”
Trevor nodded again and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Cool. Well… maybe I’ll catch you around.”
And just like that, he walked off, vanishing into the crowd with a slow, deliberate pace. Jody watched him go—not because he felt threatened, but because he didn’t like question marks hanging in the air.
There was a tension in the back of his neck now, subtle but there. He didn’t judge folks, didn’t care how they lived their lives—but he also wasn’t in the mood to be anyone’s curiosity or experiment. Whatever Trevor was on, it wasn’t Jody’s vibe.
He turned back to the bar, letting the music settle him again. Just as he did, a familiar voice purred at his ear—the woman in the green dress, back for another round.
“You disappeared on me,” she teased.
Jody smiled and stood. “Let’s fix that.”
And with that, he left the unease behind, following the rhythm back to the dance floor—where things made sense, and he was once again in control..:
Jody had seen plenty in his time—women who wanted a quick thrill, some chasing fantasies, even the occasional awkward proposition wrapped in a compliment. He was used to attention. That came with the territory. A tall, fine man, and a presence that filled a room without a word? People noticed. People followed. And he let them—for a while.
Tonight was no different. The club was alive, thick with heat, music, and anticipation. He’d danced, flirted, turned heads. A few women had already tried to claim him with their eyes—and a couple with their hands—but Jody was in no rush. He liked to move at his own pace, let the night breathe.
Still, something shifted.
He felt it before he saw it. That subtle change in the air, like the room suddenly had a new center of gravity—and it was pulling straight toward him. Jody turned, slow and curious.
And then he saw her.
Valerie.
She didn’t walk—she glided. Every step fluid, confident, and deliberate. Tall and thick in all the right places, her curves moved like they had their own rhythm. Golden-toned skin, long waves of blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, and a mouth made for sin. Her dress was deep burgundy, hugging her like it had been melted on—strapless, short, and designed to turn thoughts dirty.
But what stood out most was her focus.
She wasn’t looking around the room. She wasn’t here to be seen. She was here for him.
Just a few steps behind her was Trevor—the same guy who’d tried to chat Jody up earlier. The one who hovered a little too close, like he had something to say but couldn’t find the nerve. Now, seeing the two of them together, it clicked that they were connected.
But that didn’t clear up the confusion.
Trevor wasn’t giving off any overt signals—he wasn’t looking at Jody the way some men tried to. And Jody didn’t swing that way. Never had. Never would. He was comfortable in his skin and didn’t care how anyone else lived, but he had his boundaries, and they weren’t up for negotiation.
So, when Valerie stepped up to him, eyes locked, lips curved in a slow, knowing smile, Jody’s curiosity sparked—but so did his guard. She was bad. No denying that. But between her and the man behind her, this was starting to feel like something more than a simple come-on.
Still, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
He just looked at her, calm and steady, waiting to see what this was really about.
Valerie didn’t speak at first.
She just stood there, close enough that Jody could see the shimmer on her collarbone, close enough that her perfume curled into his senses—sweet, warm, expensive. Her eyes stayed on his, bold and unblinking, like she was measuring him.
Jody didn’t flinch. He held her gaze, unreadable, posture relaxed but alert. He still didn’t know what this was. And until he did, he wasn’t giving them anything. Not his interest, not his energy, and definitely not his time.
Trevor hung back, quiet, eyes flicking from Valerie to Jody and back again. He looked like a man waiting for something to play out. Not eager. Not nervous. Just… watching.
The silence stretched, thick with unsaid things. Jody broke it first, voice low and steady.
“You gonna say what this is… or keep standing there eye fucking me?”
That made her smile. A real one this time—wide, slow, and laced with heat.
“I figured you’d want the truth,” she said, stepping just a little closer.
Jody didn’t move. He just gave her a look that said, Always.
Valerie tilted her head, the silk of her hair catching the light. “Trevor’s with me. Obviously. And he noticed you earlier. I did too.” Her eyes roamed his frame again, blatant, lingering. “You’ve got something… we’re both drawn to.”
Jody’s gaze hardened. “You wasting your time if you think I’m into him.”
Valerie raised a brow, not offended, not flustered. “You’re not. I know. That’s not what this is.”
She took another step, her voice softening, the tension beginning to slide into something smoother. “Trevor doesn’t want you. He wants to watch.”
That caught Jody off guard—not because it was wild, but because it was so calmly delivered. So matter-of-fact.
“He gets off on it,” Valerie continued, her voice almost a whisper now. “Seeing me with someone who can take control. Someone who doesn’t hold back. Someone like you.”
Her eyes dropped again, not even pretending to be polite. They wandered over his chest, down his torso, and settled low. Her smile deepened as if she’d found exactly what she was looking for.
Jody didn’t speak right away. The tension was still there, but it had shifted—curled into curiosity, edged with heat. He’d been approached before. Been offered things. But never like this. Never this direct, this confident, this clean.
He looked at Trevor now—really looked. The man didn’t flinch under the attention. He didn’t look desperate or ashamed. He looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and had brought his woman to the man who could give it to her.
Jody’s jaw tightened. Not in anger. In thought.
Valerie leaned in, her voice a whisper meant for no one but him. “I like it rough. I like it real. I like being dominated… and I like knowing he’s watching while I get it from someone who knows what he’s doing.”
The bass from the speakers seemed to slow, the lights flashing in rhythm with the moment. Jody’s eyes locked on hers, studying her face—her confidence, her hunger, her lack of hesitation.
The tension in his shoulders eased just a touch. His lips parted as he considered everything—the look in her eyes, the offer in her body, the open door she was standing in front of.
And then he spoke, voice low, smooth as smoke.
“You done this before?”
Valerie smiled, eyes darkening. “A few times.”
Jody tilted his head, considering. Then a slow, dangerous smile crept across his face.
“This might be a first for me,” he said, voice thick with interest. “But I don’t mind new experiences.
Valerie bit her lip, eyes gleaming.
“Then let’s go.”
Jody didn’t move right away.
Valerie’s invitation was bold, raw, and laid bare without hesitation—but he wasn’t the type to leap into anything without drawing clear lines. Curiosity was there, no doubt. So was the heat. But even in the middle of lust and opportunity, Jody moved with intention.
He stepped back just slightly, eyes flicking from Valerie to Trevor, then back again. His voice, when it came, was low and firm. Unmistakably in control.
“Before anything happens, let’s be clear. I got one boundary.”
Valerie raised a brow, her expression unreadable but attentive.
“No contact with him,” Jody continued, nodding toward Trevor. “None. Not during. Not after. I don’t care what he’s into. I’m not here for him.”
Trevor nodded without hesitation, hands raised in quiet agreement, no trace of protest in his posture.
“That’s not a problem,” Valerie said smoothly. “He knows his place in this. He’s watching—nothing else.”
Jody’s eyes lingered on Trevor a moment longer, just enough to make sure the message landed. Then he turned back to Valerie, his tone loosening with a darker, more seductive edge.
“Everything else? I’m good. I understand what this is. I’m a guest at your party… but once I walk through that door, I take the lead.”
Valerie’s lips parted, her breath catching just slightly as he stepped closer. “That’s exactly what I want.”
Trevor reached into his back pocket and pulled out a slim black hotel card. Gold logo. Subtle. Discreet.
“The W Hotel,” he said. “Room 1802..”
Jody took the card and slipped it into his wallet with calm purpose, then met Trevor’s eyes one last time.
Valerie stepped in close—close enough that Jody could feel the heat rolling off her. She looked up at him through heavy lashes, a smirk curving on her lips. “We’ll be waiting.”
She turned with the same slow, confident stride she arrived with, hips swaying like they had their own rhythm, Trevor falling into step behind her. They vanished into the crowd, leaving Jody standing still, the beat of the club suddenly feeling muted in their wake.
He let a few minutes pass, calm and cool as ever, before heading out into the night.
The city lights streaked past his windshield as he drove, unbothered, unfazed, and fully aware of what he was walking into.
He wasn’t just showing up to someone else’s fantasy.
He was about to take it over.:
The W stood tall and sleek, all glass and gold trim—discreet luxury designed for nights just like this. Jody pulled into the lot, parked his car with ease, and grabbed a bottle of water from the center console. He cracked it open, took a few long swigs, then checked his reflection in the rearview.
Focused. Cool. Still in control.
He popped the glove box, retrieved the handful of Magnums he’d tucked away earlier, and slipped them into the inside pocket of his jacket. Then he made his way through the lobby, past the mirrored elevator doors, and up to the 18th floor.
Room 1802.
When the door opened, the space inside was moody and warm—lights dimmed low, the flicker of city lights pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows. A soft R&B groove played from hidden speakers, the bass thick and slow, setting the tone. The suite was expansive—one large room with a king-sized bed, a sitting area across from it, and a dark leather armchair in the far corner where Trevor sat, quiet, already in place.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just nodded once, acknowledging Jody’s arrival.
Jody stepped in and closed the door behind him. He set the water bottle on the nightstand, slipped off his jacket, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Calm. Collected.
Valerie emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a black lace thong and matching bra, her body lit by the soft golden hue from the sconces above the bed. Her eyes found Jody immediately, drawn to him like heat to flame.
She didn’t say a word.
Instead, she walked straight to him, hips swaying, her body radiating desire. Jody didn’t move, didn’t even blink. He just watched her approach, knowing exactly what was coming—and letting her work for it.
She stood between his knees, her hands sliding up the back of his neck, fingers combing into his scalp. Slowly, deliberately, she leaned down and kissed his lips—soft, teasing. Then she let her mouth trace along his jaw, down the side of his throat, her breath warm against his skin.
Her hands slid down his chest, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt.
“Take it off,” she whispered.
He didn’t move. Just raised an eyebrow.
Valerie smiled—and did it for him.
She eased his shirt up, inch by inch, trailing her fingers across his abs, his chest, his arms as she pulled the fabric over his head. Her touch was reverent and deliberate, like she was unwrapping a gift she’d waited all night to claim. Jody’s muscles flexed beneath her hands, and by the time the shirt was gone, he was already hard.
Valerie noticed.
She bit her lip, her fingers drifting down to the button on his jeans. With one swift flick, it was undone. The zipper followed. She knelt before him, her hands gliding along his thighs, her lips brushing his skin as she slowly worked his jeans down.
They dropped around his ankles.
His dick pressed hard against his boxer briefs, straining with need.
She peeled them down next—slow, hungry, her lips ghosting over his hip as she released him. He sprang free, thick, long, pulsing with heat.
Valerie moaned softly as she took him in her hand, stroking him once, then twice, before lowering her mouth over the tip.
Her lips were soft and warm, tongue swirling in slow circles as she suckled just the head. Her hand stroked his shaft, keeping a steady rhythm while she worked him deeper into her mouth, inch by inch, until her lips met her fingers.
Jody exhaled, eyes heavy-lidded, hand resting on her head, not guiding—just there.
Valerie didn’t rush. She bobbed her head in smooth, wet motions, saliva glistening along his shaft, moaning softly like she was getting off just from the taste of him. Every time she pulled back, her tongue flicked under the head, teasing the most sensitive spot before sinking back down.
Then she moved lower—her tongue tracing over his balls, warm and slick. She suckled one gently, then the other, licking and kissing, her hand still stroking his shaft. The combination of lips, tongue, and rhythm was overwhelming.
Jody’s muscles tensed, his jaw clenched, and he let out a low, guttural grunt. His hand gripped the sheets.
She looked up at him, eyes locked as she took him deep one final time.
He exploded in her mouth.
Valerie moaned around him, swallowing every drop, tongue still working him as he pulsed against her lips. She didn’t pull away until he softened slightly, her lips wet and glistening as she finally let him slip free.
Jody exhaled hard, head tilted back for a moment, chest rising with each deep breath.
But he didn’t stay down for long.
He reached for the water bottle, took a quick swig, and then looked down at her—still on her knees, lips parted, eyes hungry.
A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.
“You ready to see what I do when I’m just getting started?”
Jody wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, smirking down at Valerie as she knelt in front of him, flushed and breathing hard, her chest rising and falling in anticipation.
“Get up,” he said, voice deep and commanding.
Valerie obeyed immediately, her eyes bright with excitement as she rose to her feet. Jody stayed seated on the bed, his big hands finding her waist, pulling her closer until she was standing between his spread knees once again.
Slowly, he ran his palms up her sides, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin lace of her lingerie. He slid his fingers under the band of her bra, then with a single firm motion, pulled it down over her breasts, baring them to him.
“Beautiful,” he muttered, just before he leaned in.
He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, warm and wet, flicking it with his tongue before grazing it lightly with his teeth. Valerie gasped, her hands flying up to cradle his bald head, her fingers sliding over the smooth skin, gripping him closer to her. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention, lapping and teasing until her body was trembling against him.
Without warning, Jody stood, towering over her. Valerie barely had time to catch her breath before he scooped her up effortlessly and tossed her onto the bed like she weighed nothing at all.
She landed with a small, delighted squeal, laughing breathlessly as she sprawled back across the expensive bedding. Jody didn’t give her a moment to recover.
He moved over her, his large hands gripping her thighs and spreading them wide, pushing the thin scrap of lace to the side. He paused just long enough to admire the sight of her—wet, swollen, glistening.
Then he buried his face between her legs.
Valerie cried out, her back arching off the bed the moment his tongue made contact. Jody devoured her, no hesitation, no mercy. His tongue was relentless, stroking and circling her clit with practiced precision, plunging deeper when she least expected it.
Valerie’s fingers tangled into the back of his head, nails scraping lightly against his scalp as she rocked her hips against his mouth, chasing every sensation he gave her. She moaned shamelessly, the sound echoing off the walls, her body slick and trembling under his command.
Jody sucked her clit hard, then licked it in slow, torturous circles, sending her spiraling higher with every stroke of his tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing—working her up, making her lose herself before he even really started.
When he finally pulled away, her thighs were quivering, her skin flushed from her chest to her cheeks, her lips parted on ragged breaths.
Without a word, Jody rose to his feet, crossing the room with slow, deliberate steps. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a gold-wrapped Magnum, tearing it open with a quick rip of his teeth.
Valerie watched him, chest heaving, eyes glazed with lust.
Jody rolled the condom on, his thick shaft standing proudly, the sight alone making her whimper.
He climbed back onto the bed, grabbing her hips and dragging her roughly toward the edge, forcing her legs wide apart. She gasped as he lined himself up, the head of his dick pressing against her slick entrance.
He looked her dead in the eyes as he spoke, voice low and primal.
“I am about to give you what you want.”
And with that, he slammed into her in one hard, unforgiving thrust.
Valerie screamed—a raw, lusty sound that filled the room, bouncing off the high ceilings. Jody didn’t give her a second to adjust. He set a brutal pace from the start, pounding into her like he meant to drive her through the mattress. His hands gripped her hips tight, using her body the way she clearly wanted to be used, each stroke deep, thick, claiming.
The bed shook with every punishing thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with Valerie’s high, desperate moans and the deep grunts rumbling from Jody’s chest.
“Fuck, Jody! Oh my God!” she cried out, nails clawing at the sheets, at his shoulders, at anything she could reach.
He growled low in his throat, gripping her thighs and spreading them even wider, forcing himself deeper inside her until she was writhing beneath him, helpless under his power.
Trevor sat in the corner, forgotten and silent, a spectator to the raw, primal domination unfolding before him.
But Jody wasn’t thinking about Trevor. He wasn’t thinking about anything except the woman under him—the way her body opened to him, the way she took everything he gave her and begged for more.
And he wasn’t even finished.
Jody didn’t slow down. Valerie was breathless beneath him, her moans broken and high-pitched, legs trembling as he pounded into her like he had something to prove. And maybe he did.
But then, without warning, he pulled out and sat back on the bed, legs spread, dick slick and still rock hard.
“Come ride,” he ordered, voice like gravel.
Valerie climbed onto his lap, her body flushed and glistening, her thighs sticky with arousal. She straddled him, reaching back to guide him in, trying to ease herself down slowly, teasing.
Jody wasn’t having that.
His hands shot up, gripping her hips tight, fingers digging into her skin. In one brutal pull, he slammed her down onto him—balls deep.
Valerie yelped, head thrown back, her hands flying to his shoulders.
“Oh—fuck!”
Jody didn’t give her a second to recover. His hips thrust upward in hard, punishing strokes, driving into her from below with relentless force. Each movement lifted her off his dick only for him to slam her right back down, over and over, controlling every inch of the rhythm.
“This what you wanted right," he growled, eyes locked on hers.
“I—fuck—yes,” she cried out, her voice breaking as her body bounced against his, helpless under his grip.
He kept pounding her, his hands pulling her down harder each time, his thighs flexing beneath her with every deep, upward thrust. Valerie was a mess—whimpering, gasping, unraveling as he wrecked her from below.
Trevor sat in the corner, still fully clothed, his hand stroking his dick as he watched his wife’s pussy get demolished. His breathing matched the rhythm of Jody’s thrusts, his eyes wide and glued to the brutal scene in front of him.
Jody finally shifted, his chest rising and falling as he moved Valerie off his lap and spun her around. He flipped her onto her hands and knees, positioning her at the edge of the bed.
He lined himself up again, and without warning, slammed back into her.
The sound was obscene—wet, sharp, primal.
He grabbed her hip with one hand and smacked her ass hard with the other. Valerie cried out, the sting of his palm mixing with the deep, punishing thrusts that followed.
Again. And again.
His hips snapped forward like he was trying to split her open, the bed creaking beneath their weight, her ass rippling with every strike. Jody watched as red handprints bloomed across her pale skin, his marks, his proof of dominance.
Valerie’s mouth hung open, her moans turning into breathless cries as she took every savage thrust.
“God—yes—Jody—please—don’t stop—”
He didn’t. He couldn’t.
The pressure was building, his grip tightening, thrusts growing erratic as he chased his nut. He slammed into her harder, faster, his body tense and locked as he drove into her one last time—
And came.
A low, guttural growl tore from his throat as he emptied into the condom, buried deep, unmoving for a long, breathless moment.
Finally, he pulled out, his dick still twitching, and stepped back to look at his work.
Valerie was wrecked.
No longer the poised, sultry woman from the club—her hair was wild and tangled, her face pressed against the sheets, body limp and twitching, used and thoroughly satisfied. Her ass was red and glowing from his slaps, her thighs still shaking.
Jody peeled off the condom and walked into the bathroom, tossing it into the trash and running cool water over his hands. He splashed his face, exhaled slowly, and stared at himself in the mirror—brow damp, chest glistening, but calm. Controlled.
When he stepped out, the energy in the room had changed.
Valerie was on her knees now, lips wrapped around Trevor’s dick, sucking him hungrily. Her moans were muffled, but insistent, eyes half-lidded as Trevor gently held her head and stroked her hair. His touch was soft, intimate. He wasn’t fucking her—he was adoring her.
The contrast made Jody pause.
That was their thing.
He watched for a beat, then let out a quiet chuckle to himself. No judgment. Just recognition.
He dressed slowly, grabbing his shirt and jacket. Before he left, he grabbed the hotel notepad, scribbled down his number, and placed it next to the room key on the dresser.
No words. Just digits and silence.
Then he opened the door, stepped into the quiet hallway, and walked toward the elevator, the memory of Valerie’s moans still ringing in his ears.
By the time he reached his car, he was already replaying the night in his head.
It was a first, ooh weee, but it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.