A smile teases my lips as my head tilts to the side. “Is that a trick question?”
He grins the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen, and before my knickers can excuse themselves from the party, he grabs my hand and practically drags me out of there and in the direction of his waiting car.
THE DRIVE BACK TO THE HOTEL is fraught with tension—well, on my part anyway. I’m restless and arguing with myself in my head about what a bad idea this is versus what an awesome idea it is.
With Jason Derulo’s “The Other Side” playing in the car, the bad-idea theory is starting to win out.
If Carrick was keeping me busy right now and actually had his hands or mouth on me, then I wouldn’t be thinking about anything else, except for him, but that’s not currently the case.
Surprisingly, the only part of me that Carrick is touching is my hand, which is held firmly in his, and not in a sexy-fingers-linked way. No, he’s holding my hand like my mum used to when I was a little kid.
Add to that, our hands are resting on the leather seat—in the very notable gap between us—which he put there, might I add, and I’m left feeling like I’m on one of those awkward first dates. You know, the blind-date kind where the guy’s not really into you, but he feels like he has to hold your hand out of obligation while he counts down the minutes until the date is over.
Yeah, I’m kind of there right now.
I’m actually starting to wonder if this is the Carrick Ryan—famed womanizer—sitting beside me, or some testosterone-missing clone put in his place. He’s not behaving like the same guy I was just kissing at the party.
By the time the car pulls up outside our hotel, I’m about sixty percent sure that I’ll back out of having sex with him.
But…I just keep getting flashes of him kissing me, and I can still taste him on my tongue and smell his aftershave on my skin. It keeps swaying me back to keeping my mouth shut and to just go with the flow.
We climb out of the car. Carrick places his hand on my lower back, guiding me inside the hotel. Okay, here’s something. It might be the smallest of touches, but it feels like the most intimate.
And I’m right back to the awesome.
When we reach the elevators, he guides me into a waiting one. Once safely inside, he presses the button for his floor.
I watch as the door slides shut, and my heart starts to race at the knowledge that we’re finally going to be alone.
This is it. He’s going to ravish me the second those doors slide closed, shutting the rest of the world out.
Only…they’re shut now. The lift’s ascending, and he hasn’t made a move, not a frigging move.
Okay, what the hell is going on?
I saw him in China…with that woman. The thought of it makes me want to vomit. But his hands were everywhere. Everywhere! He was all over her like white on rice, but with me, nothing. Not a bloody thing!
He definitely fancies me. That I do know. So, why?
Maybe he just thought she was hotter than me. Maybe she got him hotter than I do.
Oh God. Now, I definitely do feel sick.
Should I do something? Make a move? Does he want me to be more sexually forward? Maybe that’s what gets his motor revving. I just always got the impression that Carrick is all about being in charge, alpha to the max, but maybe I’m wrong.
I glance across at him, trying to get a read on him, and see that his hands are flexing restlessly at his sides. As my eyes slide from east to west, I catch sight of a definite bulge straining against his zipper.
Okay, so he’s still hard for me. Then, why? I just don’t get it.
Oh God. Maybe he’s changed his mind. He might be hard because he’s a sex maniac, but he might have realized that this isn’t a good idea with us being friends and me working for him, and he doesn’t know how to tell me.
Mortification starts to lick my skin.
Okay, I have to say something before my head explodes.
“Carrick…” My voice carries loud in the quiet confines of the elevator. “Look, if you’ve changed your mind about this—you and me—it’s fine.” Well, it’s not fine. I’ll probably die of humiliation and never be able to look him in the face again. But what else can I say? Please shag me out of pity? Not likely. “I mean, it’s probably not a good idea for us to sleep togeth—”
The rest of my words are yanked from my mouth as I’m wrenched up hard against his body. Then, I’m spun around, none too gently, and pinned against the wall.
Grabbing my hand, he presses it against his straining zipper. “Does this feel like I’ve changed my mind?”
My breathing hitches, and my heart starts to pound against my ribs. “N-no,” I stammer.
My fingers curl around his cock on instinct.
A hiss escapes him, his eyes closing, as he rests his forehead against mine. “So, why the fuck would you ask me that?”
“Because, in China, when I saw you with that woman in the elevator, you seemed…more into her.” I cringe on the last part. Ugh, I hate how vulnerable I sound and that he’s seeing how much that night affected me.
“Jesus…Andressa.” Moving his head back, he takes my face in his hands, his eyes burning mine. “You think because I’m not nailing you in this elevator right now that I don’t want you?”
“I don’t know. It’s stupid. Just forget I said anything.”
I try to move away, but he’s not letting me go anywhere.
His eyes turn dark and serious. “You couldn’t be more wrong. I want you so fucking badly that I can’t see straight. I haven’t been able to since the moment I laid eyes on you. That’s the fucking problem. You think I wanted her more than I do you? I didn’t want her at all. I wanted you then and every day before and every day since. All I want is you. I was holding back just now—and trust me, it’s been taking every ounce of strength I have to do so—because you deserve better than me feeling you up in an elevator.” He runs his thumb over my lower lip, his eyes darkening further.
“You’re worth so much more.” He replaces his thumb with his lips, giving me the softest of kisses, sucking gently on my lower lip, making my body go lax. “But if I’d known for one second that it would make you think this way, then I’d have done whatever you wanted me to.” Another butterfly kiss. “I’d have fucked you in here.” And another. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want me to.” One more. “And then, I’ll take you to my bed and fuck you all night long.”
Sweet baby Jesus. What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
The elevator comes to a stop on his floor, the door opening.
“So, what’s it gonna be? Are we starting in here or in my bed?”
I stare at him. So many thoughts and emotions are running through my mind, but I don’t know which to grab a hold of first.
So, I run with the only thing I know for certain right now.
I don’t want to be an elevator hook-up.
“Take me to your room.”
Slipping his hand into mine, he leads me out of there. The short walk down the hall to his room is a killer. My heart is pounding like a jackhammer with each step I take.
This is it. I’m going to have sex with Carrick.
Holy shit! This is so not a good idea. But damn if it isn’t going to feel good.
He slots his key card in the door, and he pushes it open. Then, I’m unceremoniously yanked in and shoved up against the wall.
He kicks the door shut with his foot. “The time for holding back is over,” he growls. “I’m gonna fuck you good and hard.” Then, his mouth descends on mine, leading me into the wettest, dirtiest, hottest kiss I’ve ever had.
My fingers curl into the hair at the back of his neck, a low moan escaping me.
Carrick’s hand finds its way to my leg via the nicely placed split in my dress. His fingers slide up my inner thigh, causing me to gasp.
My skin is burning up. My breasts are swollen. And I know I’m more than ready for him.
I just need him to keep touching me, kissing
me. I don’t ever want him to stop. I’ve never been this needy…this desperate for a man before.
Kissing him like I’m starved for him, I fumble to unbutton his dinner jacket. Popping the last one open, I slide my hands up his hard chest, pushing the jacket off his shoulders. His hands leave me for what feels like the longest second as he frees his arms from its confines, throwing his jacket to the floor. Then, his hands are back on me. The same hand is back inside my dress, but this time, his hand is on my arse, grabbing and kneading. His other hand is fisting my hair while he presses teasing hot kisses down my neck. And when I feel the erotic flick of his hot tongue against my skin, I almost come undone.
“No matter how sexy you look in it, the dress needs to go,” he says gruffly.
I expect him to undress me here, but he doesn’t. He takes me by the hand and leads me through the darkened suite, into the bedroom.
Leaving me by the end of the bed, he turns the lamp on, illuminating us.
Turning back to me, he smiles. It makes my stomach flip. He just looks so beautiful. My fingers are itching to be back on him. Well, all of me is itching to be back on him actually.
But he isn’t moving. He’s just standing there, staring at me.
Does he want me to go to him?
“What?” I whisper, my chest suddenly feeling tight. I can’t ever remember anyone looking at me like this before. Like I’m the ultimate prize.
“Nothing.” He blinks slowly, shaking his head. “You’re just…so fucking beautiful.”
Smooth talker. “Oh, you’re good.” I smirk.
He grins, tilting his head to the side. “And I’m about to get a whole lot better.”
With promise and mischief sparking in those blues of his, he advances toward me, making my body tremble with need.
“Turn around.” The quiet command in his voice has me practically melting at his feet.
Brushing my hair aside, he kisses my shoulder—his teeth grazing, making me squirm—as his hands smooth down my sides. Gripping me at the waist, he presses his erection against my bum. Leaning back, I rest my head on his shoulder as his hands slide up my stomach, coming up to cup my breasts through my dress.
My nipples are embarrassingly hard, and I groan when his thumbs press against them through the fabric.
“I need to see you.” Urgent words brush my ear, causing me to shiver.
Skilled fingers find the zipper on my dress. He slides it down, the sound loudly erotic in the silence of the bedroom.
When he reaches the bottom, his hands come back up, and he slips his fingers under the straps of my dress and pushes them off my shoulders.
My breathing is so loud that it must sound like I have a microphone taped to my lips.
The dress slips down my body, Carrick’s hands following its descent. When the fabric is pooling at my feet, he whispers, “Andressa…”
I look back over my shoulder at him, biting my lip. The look in his eyes is nearly enough to bring me to my knees.
Slowly, I turn to him. I watch his eyes widen as they travel down the length of me.
“Fuck…” he breathes hoarsely, his eyes meeting mine.
I thought his look was intense before, but it had nothing on this. The air is knocked from my lungs.
“Red is now officially my new favorite color.” Reaching out, his fingertip traces the edge of my bra. “I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet. God, Andressa, I have never seen anything like you before in my life.”
His words leave a mark on my insides.
To pull us back to where we are, I lean in and press a hot kiss to his lips. “Well, you’d better make the most of me then.”
Something I can’t discern flashes through his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.
His fingers slide up into my hair. “Oh, I plan on doing a lot to you.”
“Likewise. Now, strip. It’s my turn to see you.”
A knowing grin brings up his lips. He takes a step back from me, giving me ample view. He removes his bow tie and his fingers go to the buttons on his shirt as he toes his shoes off.
I move to step out of my heels when his gruff voice says, “Keep the heels on.”
A definite throb starts between my legs.
Carrick pulls off his shirt with the confidence that only a man with a face like his can, and mother of God…I’ve hit the jackpot.
Never in my life have I seen a man who has a body like his.
Trousers hang low on his slim hips. My eyes devour the inches upon inches of smooth golden skin covering one, two, three, four, five…yep, a rippling six-pack, and sweet mother of Jesus, thank you! He has the V! I feel like I should take a photo just so I can look at it later when I’m alone.
He starts to unzip his trousers, cockiness still in his stance. But then, if I looked like him, I’d be the cockiest bastard on the planet.
The sound of his zipper lowering is agonizingly slow. I bite my lip with anticipation.
He drops his trousers.
And my mouth falls open.
Holy…cock.
It’s big and thick and straining upward like a prayer. I feel like I should get down on my knees and beg for mercy.
“Like what you see?”
Biting my lip again, I lift my gaze. He’s wearing the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen in my life. And the throbbing between my thighs intensifies to epic proportions.
I tilt my head to the side. “Does it work as good as it looks?”
The grin reaches his eyes, kicking up his brow. “Better.”
The next thing I know, I’m in his arms, and he’s kissing me deep and hard, his tongue sliding against mine. His hands grab my behind, and he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist.
I don’t feel as tall as I am when I’m with Carrick. He’s so male, so fucking confident in everything he does, that he makes me feel feminine.
But scariest of all is how vulnerable he makes me feel.
Somehow, we end up on the bed with me on my back and Carrick firmly situated between my legs.
Our kiss becomes harder, bordering aggressive. I put that down to the sexual tension that’s been building between us for weeks.
His hand pulls the cup of my bra down, his thumb brushing over my sensitive nipple. I gasp, my hips jerking against him with need.
Seeming to enjoy my reaction, he breaks from our kiss, leaving me breathless, as he kisses his way down to the breast he just exposed.
When his lips close around my nipple, I all but orgasm.
“You like that?” he asks hoarse.
My response comes out somewhere between a moan and a whimper.
Then, he’s getting to his feet.
I blink up at him standing there in all his godlike glory.
His hand wraps around my ankle, lifting my leg. Fingers sliding along my skin, he slips my shoe off and drops it to the floor. He presses a soft kiss to my instep, and my belly quivers. He removes my other shoe, tossing it over his shoulder.
Leaning over me, he hooks his fingers into my knickers and stares deep into my eyes. “Are you ready for me, Andressa?”
“Yes,” falls from my lips in a breathy whisper.
As he pulls my knickers down, I lift my hips to give him purchase.
Not bothering to wait for him, I remove my bra, throwing it to the floor behind me.
I know the instant he sees my bare breasts for the first time because his eyes flash hot, like someone just struck a match behind them. Then, he lets out a rough-sounding growl, and that’s when things get a little crazy. He’s back on me, pinning me to the bed and kissing the hell out of me, while his hand cups my breast, pinching my nipple with just the right pressure. His other hand slips between us.
I almost come out of my skin at the first touch of his fingers on me.
“Fuck…” he groans. “You’re soaked.”
I should feel embarrassed, but I’m not. All I feel with him is…everything. Everything I shouldn’t.
“I kinda want you…a lot
,” I admit in a whisper.
Lustful eyes meet mine. “I kinda want you, too. You have no idea just how fucking badly.”
Lifting my head, I press a kiss to his lips as my hand reaches down and wraps around his bare cock, something I’ve wanted to do for a while now. He’s scorching hot to the touch.
A groan escapes him.
“By the feel of it, I’d say you want me really, really bad,” I murmur huskily against his mouth.
I feel his responding grin. “And I’m gonna really, really take you.” He pushes a finger inside me, driving up until he’s touching his knuckle.
My legs shamelessly fall open on a whimper, and he starts to fuck me with his finger, his thumb rubbing over my clit.
“God, yes,” I moan as my body begins to coil and tighten, starting the climb toward the amazing orgasm I know he’s soon going to give me.
“You’re so fucking sexy. That’s it, babe. God, I’m going to fuck the hell out of your tight body all night long,” he says rough.
I have no doubt about that. Carrick Ryan might be fast on the tracks, but I’m betting he takes his sweet time in the sack.
Pushing my fingers into his hair, I grip the strands as his mouth descends back to my nipple, sucking hard.
A jolt rushes through my body, going straight to my sex. “Yes!”
“Are you close, Andressa?”
“Yes, oh God, yes. Don’t stop…” I beg.
Then, his fingers are gone, and I’m left cold.
“Que porra é essa?” I cry out. Yes, that came out in Portuguese. I do that sometimes when I’m surprised or pissed off.
“What did you just say?” There’s a low growl to his voice that shivers right through me.
“I said, ‘What the fuck?’ When I said, ‘Don’t stop,’ in English, did you somehow hear that in a foreign language?” I let out a huff of annoyance.
He rumbles out a deep laugh. “Andressa, I stopped because the first time you come, I’m going to be inside you. I want to feel your orgasm, not see it.”
First time? There’s going to be more than one?
“And you can speak your Brazilian filth to me while I fuck you as well.”