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  When we finally arrive, I hand the valet my keys and he takes a sideways glance at my car, probably assuming the James Langdon would roll up in a nice Mercedes or something. Don’t knock the ’96 Civic, dude! She’s a classic!

  Lola whips out her iPhone phone while I’m checking in, and I hear rapid clicks as her little fingers type out a message.

  “Who are you texting?” I ask her.

  “Stacey,” she says with a smile, returning her focus to the phone before muttering, “Just letting her know that we got in.”

  “Oh, cool.” I nod, leaning onto the desk.

  Ugh…Stacey. I generally try to avoid Stacey when we’re back home. It’s not because I don’t like her—she’s a really sweet girl and everything—but I can’t look her in the eye without seeing all that shit I did to her, and it makes me feel ashamed of how easily I let Eva manipulate me.

  I shake my lingering Stacey guilt out of my head as Lola and I walk to the elevators. I’m worked up over my hot girlfriend and I don’t want to think about awful shit right now or I won’t be able to do what I really, really want to do the second we hit the room.

  I try to distract her so she doesn’t find out about the arrangements we have. I want it to be a surprise. She knows we’re going to be getting VIP treatment here, but she doesn’t know that we’re going to be staying in a totally killer suite.

  Even though I’m more than a fuckin’ foot taller than her, she won’t let me carry her stuff—typical Lola—so I take my bag and the garment bag with our red carpet clothes while she rolls her small suitcase down the hallway to the room.

  “Interesting.” She smirks when she sees the doors.

  “You gotta close your eyes and let me lead you in there, okay? I want to do a big reveal thing.” I grin.

  She snickers, but she agrees, so I put our stuff inside and then come back out to get her.

  “No peeking,” I say as I cover her eyes and walk her forward into the suite.

  This place is the bomb, and I know she’s going to dig it. It’s decorated in warm reds and golds, and it has has a tile wall by the bar, a living room/dining room area, two bedrooms, a bathtub big enough for both of us, and a totally sweet view of the Strip.

  “Ready?” I ask her, feeling my smile getting wider.

  “Yes.”

  “Totally ready?” I ask again, just to wind her up.

  “Yes, James,” she says, chuckling.

  “Okay, ten…nine…eight—”

  “Just show me the fucking room!” She laughs loudly and stomps her foot.

  I kiss the top of her head and then slowly take my hand off her eyes, giving her a chance to see the room in all its glory.

  “Wow,” she whispers to herself, walking into the living room.

  I follow behind her, enjoying her reaction. She seems impressed with the complimentary setup of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries on the dining room table, the bouquets of red peonies on all the end tables—which I arranged just for her because I know they’re her favorite—and the tile wall behind the bar.

  “Does this look into the shower?” she says, peeking through the narrow window at the back of the bar.

  “Yep.”

  “Is that a…stripper pole in there?” Her eyebrows are high with surprise.

  “Sure is,” I answer with a smart-ass grin.

  “We have a stripper pole in our shower?”

  “Sure do.”

  She pauses and gives me a flirty glance before she says, “I don’t know how anyone could grip it if they were all wet.”

  The way she looks at this shit from a Spock-like logical standpoint always cracks me up. One time, we were talking about outdoor sex and she said she’d only have sex on a beach if we had a really big blanket because she’d be worried about the sand getting into some really uncomfortable areas. I laughed my ass off because she didn’t rule it out, she just thought of a very practical way to make it work better. She’s so chilled out when it comes to sex stuff, and I love that attitude.

  “I guess water doesn’t mess up Lucite stripper heels,” she jokes as she moves toward the master bedroom.

  I laugh loudly and follow her as she kicks off her Converse low-tops.

  Seeing her standing near the bed makes me breathe a little faster. She’s not even doing anything seductive right now, but I find her so sexy. She’s beautiful. Really sensual. Something as simple as the elegant curve of her long neck can draw my attention like a magnet, and my mind starts going to all these less-than-pure places. She makes me want to touch and kiss every inch of her body, and she has no idea that she’s seduced me this much right now.

  I step closer and stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her in toward my chest.

  “You look really beautiful right now,” I whisper.

  “Long hours in a car and you think I look beautiful?” she says, trying to be modest about it when she knows it’s totally true.

  “I always think you look beautiful, Lo,” I softly reply.

  I lower my head and drift soft little kisses up and down the side of her neck. She tilts to give me better access, and I kiss that spot right behind her ear that always turns her on—the “exhale spot” as I’ve come to call it. It works, and I can hear her exhale when I press my lips there again.

  My hands come down to her hips and then around to the button on her shorts. I undo it and then unzip her fly, easing the shorts down her legs and running my hands over her panties—the boy shorts with pink polka dots and purple lace waistband. This means she’s probably wearing the matching bra, and I really want to see that.

  She asked me the other day if I thought she needed sexier lingerie, stuff more like what the girls in my videos would wear, but I told her no way. I like her in simple stuff like this because it’s more her. She doesn’t need a bunch of skimpy shit. Her vibe is fun, cute, and sweet—and I fuckin’ dig that like a madman.

  I slowly lift the bottom of her thin, vintage Prince T-shirt, but she doesn’t raise her arms for me to take it off, so I just slide my hand under it and smooth my fingers over her flat little stomach.

  “Are we going to have time?” she says. The sound of her voice gives away how turned on she is.

  “Yeah, totally,” I reply, kissing her neck again.

  There’s a pre-show party tonight and we’re supposed to be there in a couple hours, but I know she wants to take time to shower and really glam up, since she’s going to be meeting a lot of people for the first time.

  “James, I don’t want to have to rush when I do my hair and stuff.” She giggles when I slide my hand higher and palm her over her bra.

  “Lo, we’re gonna have time.” I nip at her earlobe. “We’ve got over two hours, dude. We’ll be fine.”

  She shakes her head, but then she turns around and kisses me. I’ve kissed hundreds, maybe even thousands of women in my life, but nothing compares to a kiss from Lola. Her lips are so soft, her tongue moves in a sexy way that makes my heart start pounding, and she does this little thing where she trails her fingers down the back of my neck. So hot, seriously!

  This time, when I lift up her T-shirt, she lets me take it off and I get to see that polka dot bra. It’s not anything fancy, but on her it looks like a million bucks. She always thinks I’m bullshitting when I say it, but this girl could be a fuckin’ Victoria’s Secret model tomorrow. Nobody rocks lingerie or bikinis like Lola.

  She looks right in my eyes when I run my fingers under the straps of her bra, tracing them from the front to the back. Her expression combines innocence and total sultriness, both qualities she just naturally exudes. She gives me these eyes like she doesn’t know what I’m going to do but she’s excited for it and she can’t wait for me to do it. Of course, she totally knows what I’m going to do, but I think she also knows that this particular flirty look really turns me on, so she does it all the time.

  I unsnap her bra, and she lets it fall off her arms. She has to stand on her tiptoes to kiss me as I
rest one hand on her hip and let the other roam her chest. Her nipples firm up instantly. Fuck! I think that might be my favorite thing about her body, the way she’s so responsive to my every touch. I love girls who can really let go and get into it, and Lola definitely gets into it.

  She told me once that she’s uninhibited with sex because she trusts me a hundred percent, so she doesn’t feel like she has to be shy about anything. I remember being so psyched when she said that and feeling very proud of myself for making sure that all her sexual experiences with me were really positive and enjoyable. I think I like pleasuring her even more than she likes being pleasured, and getting her off is the highlight of my day—or highlights, I guess I should say, because I try to do it many, many times every day.

  “Lie down on the bed, beautiful girl,” I say softly to her, motioning with my hand.

  She does, and she gives me the cutest smile when I lean over her and kiss her neck.

  “You. Shirt off. Now.” She tugs at the bottom of my old, faded-out Rolling Stones T-shirt.

  I stand up at the side of the bed and pull my shirt off while she looks me over. I feel really flattered by the way she always seems impressed with my body, even after all the times she’s seen me naked. I’m naturally pretty big, but I do hit the gym a lot, and it’s nice to know that she appreciates the hard work—even though I think she’d still love me if I lost the six-pack and got all scrawny. She’s not superficial and that kind of shit isn’t a deal-breaker for her.

  She sits up and unzips my jeans, rubbing her hand over my crotch with just enough pressure to make me breathe deeper. She seems surprised when she feels how hard I am, but it’s really not that shocking. The girl drives me fuckin’ wild and I want her twenty-four-seven, so I can be ready to go in two fuckin’ seconds. I’m like a goddamn miracle of modern science when it comes to Lola, and I think I break the rules of biology with her.

  She reaches into my boxer briefs and starts slowly stroking me. Her lips drift over my stomach as she scoots a little farther forward on the edge of the bed and puts her hand on my hip to urge me closer.

  When she slides my pants down, she gives me this ultra-sexy look as she licks her lips. Shit! This is gonna be so hot!

  I exhale immediately when she flicks her tongue over me in this borderline unbearable tease she likes to do. It just makes me want her so much that I can hardly contain it.

  Her lips slide over me as she takes me into her mouth, and I can’t help but moan. She closes her eyes and gets into it, and it’s totally fuckin’ incredible. It’s kind of amazing that she’d never done this at all before me.

  She’s stroking and sucking me, and I start panting. It’s too good and I’m getting too close. I don’t want to go off in her mouth, so I slowly move back and look down at her. Your turn, baby.

  She already knows what I’m planning to do, so she scoots back on the bed and props herself up on her elbows so she can look down her body at me. I kneel at the edge of the bed and slide her panties down her legs before I give her a sexy grin and start kissing the insides of her thighs, behind her knees, across her pelvis, around her hips and everywhere but the place she really, really wants me to go.

  “Open up for me, sexy girl,” I whisper to her as I ease her legs open a little more. Fuck! I love this view! It still kind of amazes me that she lets me have this level of access to her body. I used to fantasize about this, that I could simply ask her to open her legs for me and she’d happily do it, but now that dream is a reality.

  She exhales in a breathy moan right away when I put my mouth on her and start licking her. She makes these cute whiny noises when I stop every few seconds to kiss the insides of her thighs. Two can play the teasing game, little lady!

  Her hand comes down and brushes through my hair before her fingers tangle into it a little more. It’s totally hot when she gets aggressive about it and goes for what she wants. I never have to worry about her withholding information about what she likes because she’ll always tell me, whether it’s with words or just through her body’s natural impulses.

  “Mmm, yes,” she breathes as her hips rock.

  Slowly, I slide my finger over her entrance before easing it into her. I find that I always try to be as gentle as humanly possible and take everything really slow with her. She’s got attitude for days and she’s an adorable little badass, but I’m so much bigger than her physically that I view her as this fragile little treasure during sex, and I have a totally irrational fear of hurting her—at least according to what she says. She teases me sometimes for how cautious and careful I am with her, but I can’t help it. How else are you supposed to make love to an angel?

  I stroke her spot and the pre-shakes start. I like watching this whole process unfold. It’s like I can see the pleasure running through her. A couple seconds later, she whimpers and shivers as she comes. That’s right, Lola. I’ll always make you feel good.

  Normally, I’d go for multiples, but I know we’re short on time, so I kiss my way back up her body until I’m ghosting my lips up and down her throat.

  I lower myself against her and shift so I can enter her, but she objects and taps my shoulder.

  “Condom,” she says in this ultra-sexy, husky, horny voice.

  “Come on, Lo. Let’s just do this,” I mildly whine.

  “Get one.” She smiles a little apologetically.

  She’s been kind of psycho about this since we started. Sure, for the first few weeks, I understood it, but it’s been three months and I want to graduate from the condom stage. I’ve been tested about eight zillion times, and she’s been on the pill since she was sixteen, so there’s really nothing to worry about, but she’s pulling a Gandalf, and apparently I shall not pass.

  I make a really exaggerated sigh of frustration and then go over to my suitcase to get one from the giant selection of condoms we brought along with us. This is sort of our favorite activity, so we tend to do it a lot—like, a lot!

  She snickers at my overplayed annoyance as I roll it on. She knows I hate that we still have to use these, but she also knows that I don’t hate it too much because putting on a condom means that I get to have sex with her, so the reward far outweighs the inconvenience.

  “Happy now?” I tease.

  “Yes, very.” She grins triumphantly.

  “Do you see how this breaks the rhythm of things?” I tease her, positioning myself right at her entrance, but not pushing forward.

  “Oh, whatever!” She rolls her eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Do you see how you have to wait longer when you make me go get a condom? See what a waste of time this is when we both know we’re clean and we don’t need these?” I continue to tease.

  She makes a whiny noise and tries to shift her hips, but I pull back before she can get me inside her.

  “You do realize that by delaying this you’re really only hurting yourself,” she says, smirking. “I could get up and take a shower right now, but you’re the one who will be sitting here with a hard-on and nobody to help you take care of it.”

  “All right, you make a good point,” I concede.

  “Then don’t keep me waiting, stud,” she says seductively before she grabs me and kisses me. Aggressive and sexy. I love that shit!

  I move very slowly as I slip inside her, making sure not to push too hard, too fast. Again, she’s small and I used to do fuckin’ porn, for Christ’s sake, so I’m definitely above average in the dick department, and I don’t want to rush it.

  She sees my expression and giggles a little at how careful I’m being right now. She’s never had any other guys, so she doesn’t realize the complexities of wielding a big dick when your partner is really tight. I’ve had to cultivate this skill, but it goes with the territory. With a big dick comes big responsibility, so you have to know how to use it.

  I like to look in her eyes during this part, to watch the expression on her face when I’ve finally filled her. It’s really beautiful, and it gives me an intense feelin
g of intimacy, like I’m completely bonded with her on some whole other level. Lola’s the only girl I’ve ever had that with, that warmth that sort of spreads out from your heart and makes you feel like you are the only two people on earth.

  I start to move, and she starts to pant. I bend my head down so I can kiss her neck, then I straighten up so I can kiss those luscious lips of hers. Her arms pull me tighter against her and her ankles press against my hips as she rocks along with me. Her hand slides up my back and tangles into my hair when I move to kiss her neck again. I can hear her sweet, feminine little moans against my ear. Listening to a girl’s noises has always been one of my favorite parts of sex, but that increases a gazillion-fold when it’s Lola making those noises.

  “I love you, my beautiful girl,” I whisper to her. “I love you so much. I’ve always loved you. I’ll love you forever, Lola. Forever and ever.”

  I get crazy sentimental with her when we’re doing it. I always make these big proclamations of love and vows to be with her forever. It’s all totally true, though. I will love her for the rest of my life—and if there’s an afterlife, I’ll love her there too.

  She likes when I tell her stuff like this during sex, which is perfect because I love telling her. I say this kind of thing to her all the time, but sometimes I feel like she only takes it seriously when I’m making love to her. Maybe that’s the only time she can literally feel how much I love her.

  This is the kind of shit that makes sex with Lola so awesome. I have done some serious fucking in my day—we’re talking insane positions, two and three girls at a time, bondage, toys, hot tubs, elevators, beaches, in the back of a van driving down the street while a dude in the front seat filmed it, all kinds of completely unconventional stuff. But everything’s different with Lola. It’s intimacy, and I’ve learned that intimacy can be some powerful shit.