He stiffened against her, and a dark place in the back of her mind warned he was going to say no. Then every muscle loosened and relaxed.
“Yeah,” he said into her hair. “Yeah, let’s get going.”
* * *
What the fuck do you think you’re doing?
Brian could hear Jake Ryder’s voice pinging around in his head as he followed Grace off the elevator and down the hallway toward her room. He really needed to turn his ass around and get the hell out of here. He wasn’t supposed to be interacting with her at all, let alone kissing her senseless like he’d done in the bar. So what the bloody hell was he doing?
Grace stopped in front of a set of double doors and fumbled with her keycard. “These things are so frustrating.”
Jacket in hand, Brian stood back, intent on not touching her, and watched her slide it incorrectly four times. Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Grace’s head came up. A huge guy dressed in a suit with shoulders like an NFL linebacker stopped feet from Brian and gave him the once-over. “Ma’am, is everything okay here?”
“Yeah.” Grace’s shoulders tightened. “Just trying to get my keycard to work. Why? Is there a problem?”
Mr. NFL glanced from her, then to Brian. “We got a report of some suspicious activity on this floor, so we’re just being cautious. Are you two registered in this room together?”
Mr. NFL’s stance was defensive, and though Brian knew the guy was just doing his job, his spine stiffened. He was also curious about this so-called suspicious activity.
“He’s a friend,” Grace said. “Nothing to worry about here.”
Mr. NFL gave Brian the once-over again like he didn’t believe her, then directed his gaze toward Grace. “If that keycard isn’t working, you’ll need to go down to the front desk.” He stepped past them and shot Brian an I’m watching you look before he moved on his way. “Y’all have a nice evening.”
Grace blew out a long breath and relaxed her shoulders. When Mr. NFL was out of earshot, she muttered, “I hate security. I hate the way they’re always watching.”
“You have issues with people doing their job?” Brian asked, turning his attention back to her.
She ran her card again. “No. I have issues with people butting into my privacy like that.”
“He’s just trying to keep you safe.”
“Well, he should ask and not just assume. He was looking at you like you were a liar and a cheat.”
Brian’s stomach tossed. At the moment, he felt like one.
Grace swiped the card again. “Damn it.”
He reached for the key before he thought better of it. “Here. Let me.”
“Thanks.” Grace moved back and swiped the hair away from her face.
He slid the keycard in the right way. The light flashed green. Turning the handle, he pushed the door open with his shoulder and held it for her. “There you go.”
Grace shot him that wicked, heated smile and stepped inside. When he didn’t follow, she turned to look at him. “I thought you were coming in.”
He wanted to. Brian glanced down the empty hall where the security guard had disappeared. Every instinct he had said to get the hell out of here as fast as he could. But one look at Grace’s expectant eyes and his body warmed, sending sparks of arousal through every cell, dragging him forward before he could protest.
Confusion morphed to an excitement that brightened her entire face. She stepped back as he closed the door and motioned for him to follow her down the small entry hall that led to the suite’s living area. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”
He shouldn’t. Brian rubbed a hand over his forehead. He needed to get the fuck out before he did something he couldn’t undo. But for some reason, he couldn’t seem to get his feet to listen to his damn head. He told himself he was just doing his job. That he was only here to make sure she got back safely and because he planned to talk some sense into her about inviting a stranger back to her room. But then she leaned forward to slide off one heel, and he got a good look at her adorable ass in the tight black skirt, and he knew he was spewing bullshit a mile long. And that he wasn’t about to leave.
“Just…” Dark curls fell over her face as she took a step with her bare foot and reached down for the other shoe, doing this strange little hopping thing that shouldn’t be sexy but, shit…was. She tried to unbuckle her strap and move toward the bedroom at the same time, but all the movement did was cause her breasts to jiggle in the dress and give him a better view of her ass—tight, toned, not from crazy workouts but from nature—and damn, it was totally hot. “I’ll be right back. There’s wine”—hop, hop, hop—“near the bar.”
She disappeared into the bedroom, and alone, Brian drew a deep breath that did shit to calm his raging libido.
Tugging the gun from the holster at his back, he slipped it into the pocket of his coat, then laid it over a chair. Then he stalked toward the wet bar on the far side of the posh suite, where he found ice, water, diet root beer, and an unopened bottle of wine wrapped in a bow that looked more like a gift than something she’d bought for herself.
She wasn’t a drinker. That was obvious. And right now, more alcohol was the last thing either of them needed. He filled two tumblers with ice, poured water over the top, then turned to find her standing in the bedroom doorway, watching him with those sexy dark eyes.
His pulse went stratospheric. She’d ditched the cocktail dress and was wearing a black, fitted tank that showed off her small, pert breasts, and low-rise fuzzy purple pajama bottoms that brushed the carpet as she moved.
“That doesn’t look like wine.” She nodded toward the two glasses in his hands as she drew close, and that sweet, fresh scent of hers washed over him. “Are you trying to protect my virtue?”
She took one glass from him, lifted it to her lips, and sipped. And Brian swallowed to try to get his voice to work. Damn, that outfit should not be sexy, but on her it was, because it was unexpected and adorable and because that tiny strip of skin showing between her tank and the waistband of her pajama bottoms made him want to tear her clothes off. With his teeth.
“I think I’m trying to protect mine.”
She smiled against the glass, then lowered it, ice clinking with the movement. “Good answer.”
She stepped toward the plush couch and dropped onto the far side, tucking one leg up under her. She was both graceful and awkward all at the same time. When he watched her walk, he could see the dancer’s body she’d obviously inherited from her mother. But when she dropped onto that couch, especially in that outfit, she looked more like a kid than a seductive woman who’d dragged him up here for a night of meaningless sex.
Shit. He really needed to leave. He shouldn’t be here.
“Are you going to sit down or stare at me all night?” Grace asked. “Because staring is rude. Unless you’re going to do something about it.”
His stomach tightened at the sexual innuendo. Sweat slid down his spine. Forcing his feet forward, Brian sat on the couch next to her, but not too close, and took a large sip of his water. “Can I ask you a question…Samara?”
“Yes.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
He turned to look at her. She wasn’t wearing much makeup besides a little eyeliner and mascara, and her hair was a wild tangle of dark curls around her face rather than sleek and sophisticated, like most barhopping chicks he encountered. Her face was also way too smooth, her complexion flawless.
“You don’t look twenty-eight.”
“How old do I look?”
His gut tightened. “Twenty-two, tops.”
Her smile grew bright, showcasing that sweet little dent in her cheek, and her dark eyes sparkled. “Thank you. That just made my night.”
Not his. It kinda ruined things for him. Which was probably a good thing. He took another sip of water.
“I wish I could take credit for it,” she said, “but I can’t. Good genes. My mom’s almost fifty,
and she barely looks thirty.”
For some reason, that loosened the knot in his stomach.
“How old are you?” she asked. When he glanced her way again, she grinned. “Fair question. You started this.”
“Thirty-two.”
“Hm. Thirty-two.” She set her glass on the coffee table in front of her and leaned forward, all confidence and seduction, contrasting again with her youthful face and quirky movements. That fresh, alluring scent of hers drifted over him once more, bringing awareness to the forefront of his mind and his blood back to pounding. “And a professional athlete hanging out at a trendy ski resort. So tell me, Brian, why did you come up here with me instead of going with that voluptuous blonde at the bar who was hitting on you before we started talking?”
Her eyes were like warm pools of dark chocolate, and when she leaned forward like that, her arms pressed her breasts together, forcing them outward, drawing his attention straight to her cleavage, advertising the fact she was anything but a young girl.
“Because I know girls like her. They’re fake and immature. I’m not interested in that.”
“What are you interested in?”
You. Though I shouldn’t be. “I don’t know. Something different, I guess.”
Her top teeth sank into her bottom lip, and his gaze followed, his mouth remembering just how she’d tasted, his body vibrating with the memory of how she’d felt pressed up against him. And damn, but he wanted to experience that again. Right now.
“Different is good,” she whispered. “I’m definitely different.”
Get up. Leave. Go now before you fuck up your career.
She scooted closer, and her bent knee brushed his thigh, sending tingles all through his lower body as if he’d been shocked by a live wire. “The question is… What are you going to do about it?”
Something he shouldn’t. Something that was going to screw things with his boss for good. “Samara…I’m bad news.”
“Maybe.” Her gaze locked on his mouth, and slowly she ran her tongue over her bottom lip like she couldn’t wait to take her own sinful taste again. “But I doubt it.”
Blood rushed straight into his cock, making him hard, making him ache, making him lose what was left of his common sense. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning toward her. “You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”
She stretched forward, slid her arms around his shoulders, and sifted her fingers into his hair. Heat erupted everywhere she touched. A heat he couldn’t hold back anymore. “I doubt that too,” she whispered, just before his mouth met hers.
CHAPTER THREE
Every inch of Grace’s skin felt like it was burning.
Brian set his glass on the coffee table, then wrapped both arms around her while he plundered her mouth and pushed her back into the soft cushions of the couch.
She lifted her foot out from under her, opened her legs so he could move between them, then groaned when she felt his erection pressing against her.
Oh yes. This was what she wanted. This was what she’d been missing. Having a wild one-night fling totally wasn’t like her, but she didn’t care. She stroked her tongue against his and scraped her fingernails along his scalp. He answered by groaning, kissing her deeper, and sliding one hand down her rib cage, then up under the hem of her tank.
Liquid heat spread through her lower body. She lifted her hips to rub against his thickening cock. He was already hard and long, and she couldn’t wait to feel him in her hand, in her mouth, in her body. His sensual fingers slowly moved across her belly, then inched higher, until they graced the underside of her breasts. Tingles erupted, and she moaned, tightening her chest to press her breasts out in invitation. His tongue stroked and licked and tasted, and she felt her shirt lifting, felt air washing over her abs, felt his hands moving higher until one wide palm cupped and massaged, and his thumb and first finger pinched her nipple.
She tore her mouth from his and cried out, not because it hurt but because it felt so…damn…good.
He pushed her shirt up, exposing her breasts, then he shifted down her body, his thick, blond hair tickling her skin. She was so glad she’d ditched her bra. So glad she’d—
His lips brushed her breast, and his tongue traced an electric circle all around her right nipple, and all thought slipped right out of Grace’s head.
“Oh yes…”
He licked, laved, and pinched, driving her crazy with his tongue, making her hotter with every twist and rub of his fingers. Her eyes slid closed. She arched up into him. Only wanted more.
“Mm.” He breathed hot against her as he continued to tweak and torture her with his hands, with his mouth. “You’re so sensitive.”
Grace’s hips lifted and lowered on their own, rubbing against his cock, and she felt her orgasm approaching, felt every muscle contract. “Oh God, don’t stop.”
He groaned and moved to her other nipple, but he didn’t let go of the first, pinching and twisting the swollen, slick nub. Grace’s fingers dug into his shoulders. She tossed her head against the couch. And then he sucked her other breast and flicked the tip with his wicked tongue, and that was all she could take.
Stars ignited behind Grace’s eyelids. Ecstasy rolled over her like a tidal wave, dragging her under, stealing her breath. Her entire body trembled, and she moaned deep in her throat, riding the wave until it dissipated.
Brian pushed up on one hand and stared down at her with awe in his gorgeous eyes, his lips swollen and wet from devouring her, his hair all tousled and sexy from her fingers. “Did you seriously just come from that? I’ve never made a woman come just by playing with her breasts.”
Grace blinked several times, still consumed by her own surprise, more than a little embarrassed. “I’ve…never had that happen.”
But there was no embarrassment on his part. Victory flashed in his eyes just before a burning desire devoured them whole.
He slid one arm slid around her waist before she even saw him move, lifting her from the couch. The other jerked her tank up and over her head and threw it to the ground with swift movements. Gasping, Grace tried to brace herself, but he quickly shifted his knees to the floor, twisted her so she her legs were hanging off the front of the couch and her spine was pressed to the back. Then he grasped the waistband of her pajama bottoms and ripped them down her legs. “Sorry,” he muttered, his voice raspy, his hands wild. “I know this is fast, but I need to get inside you. Right this second.”
“Oh yes…” Need—stark, raving need—consumed Grace from every angle. She lifted her hips to help him tear the pants from her body, then leaned forward and fumbled with his shirt. “Hurry.”
His mouth found hers while she worked the buttons free with frantic fingers, his tongue stroking hers long and deep. His arms wrapped around her again, dragging her ass to the front of the cushion. She managed to get his shirt open and pushed it down his shoulders but didn’t get to look like she wanted, because he tore his mouth from hers, wrapped both arms around her thighs, then lifted her lower body and brought it to his mouth.
She screamed. She was sure of it. His tongue made a long, lingering sweep up her cleft, then found her clit and circled. Grace’s fingers dug into his forearms. She lifted her hips, lowered them, rubbed against him wherever she could reach. He licked down her center, then pressed his tongue to her, right where she wanted his cock, fucking her with his mouth until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Brian… Oh… Brian…”
He pulled his mouth from hers before she hit the crest, lowered her to the couch. His hands left her body, while she continued to simmer, to smolder, to tighten her thighs around his hips, trying to reach him. His fingers closed over her hand, and he drew it down her body, to her slick, steamy center. “Feel how wet you are. God, that’s so hot. Touch yourself. Yeah, just like that.”
Grace was lost in a sea of lust that was blocking out everything else. She ran her fingers over her clit again and again, knowing he was watching, loving how thick and aroused
his voice was. Her eyelids drooped, and she watched through a sexual haze as he kicked off his jeans, ripped open a condom wrapper with his teeth, and sheathed himself.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “You are so fucking sexy.”
Grace lifted her hips, slid her fingers through her arousal, shuddered.
“No, baby. Don’t make yourself come again. That’s my job.”
He took her hand, pulled it away from her body. Cool air hit her overheated center, and she whimpered. But then he was there, pushing her legs wider with his hips, inching closer, dragging the tip of his cock down her slit and back up to her clit.
“Holy hell…”
The strained words, the way he was holding himself back… Grace looked down her naked body. His muscles were tight and slicked with sweat. His slacks pushed down only far enough to free his cock, his hand wrapped around the condom on his shaft, holding it in place as he teased her. But it was the look on his face as he stared down at her sex that did her in. Cheeks flushed with arousal, eyes heavy-lidded and glazed, mouth open as he watched her body react to every stroke.
She pushed up on her elbows, needing him to fill her, to stop tormenting her. Needing to watch. “Brian…”
The thick, blunt head of his cock slid down to her opening. She shuddered, poised to take him in. Eyes locked on where he touched her, he flexed his hips, then pressed deeply inside her on a groan she felt everywhere.
“Oh yessss…” Every muscle in her body tightened. He filled her completely, stretching her, sending pleasure skirting along every nerve ending, then drew back out slowly, still watching.
“That is so fucking sexy,” he managed, pushing inside again.
Grace moaned and lifted her hips, trying to get him to move faster. Her fingers dug into the couch cushions. “You’re killing me. Oh fuck, that feels so good. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
His gaze lifted to hers. Still smoldering. Still aroused. But now burning. Burning for her. He leaned forward and captured her mouth, driving deep once more, pulling back and thrusting harder, faster.