“I don’t think there’s space.”
“To dance?” she asked, laughing at him as she turned to scan the room. Except, huh, he was right. How had she missed the growing crowd? “Oh… It got busy.”
People swarmed around tables and in corners. Judging by the getup, they’d been at the convention center too. As more flocked in, the space dwindled. It would only get worse as the night progressed.
“The expo must’ve let out.”
And she hadn’t even noticed. The noise level was high and, come to think of it, their own volume had gone up too. Getting closer was no hardship. His cologne was intoxicating. Had her mind been so befuddled that her surroundings became a blur? Yes.
“How rude,” she said, meeting his eye again.
The bar’s atmosphere had gone from intimate to raucous. That didn’t suit their conversation at all. What a shame. Things were getting interesting; she wasn’t ready to say goodnight.
“We could get them thrown out.”
Trust him to have a crazy plan. “All of them?” she asked on a snicker. “How would we do that?”
“I have my ways.”
The man of mystery thing didn’t really fit with logic. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for us to go somewhere else?”
“At this time of night around here, everywhere will be busy.”
Good point. All hotels and venues around town would hold events, in whatever form, to entertain the influx. Privacy wouldn’t be easy to find.
“It was nice while it lasted, but I’m not in the mood for crowds,” she said, draining her glass. “I had a good time.” Something she hadn’t expected when she first sat down. “You’re an interesting guy, Jamison Dawes.”
“My suite has a bar.”
Their eyes met. Oh, fuck, don’t make bad decisions, Rylee. She was kidding herself. The entire night had been heading this way from the second he joined her. Was it too brazen to just agree? Should she play hard to get? Resisting would be better for decorum, for her reputation.
Except if he accepted her polite reluctance, the night would be over. She couldn’t say no when she really meant yes. Then she’d only kick herself later. Screw decorum.
Sweeping up her purse, she hopped off the stool. “Lead the way.”
While he paid their tab, she looped her purse strap over her shoulder. Throwing caution to the wind wasn’t always a bad idea. There was something to being anonymous, separate from their real lives, it was an adventure. And who knew when she’d get some back at home? Talent at work was on the sparse side. Spotlight Solutions was not a hotbed of passion. She hadn’t seen a single male model on their payroll. This guy? Oh, he could definitely occupy space in glossy magazines meant to torment and tease women.
“You okay?”
Her mind had been wandering, but his voice brought it back. She gestured out, and with a hand on her lower back, he steered them to the elevator. It was a drink. He’d said “bar” not “bed.” Maybe sex wasn’t on his mind. Perhaps she was just scintillating conversation.
Hardly. If conversation was what he wanted, plenty of wiser minds had just poured out of the convention center. People like that, men and women alike, could be inexhaustible when it came to discussing their passions. Especially when surrounded by other like minds.
The doors opened, and they stepped inside. All night their eyes had teased and played as their lips taunted and aroused. Now they couldn’t even look at each other. Standing side by side, almost like strangers, the tension grew as the doors closed, shutting them inside.
Was he regretting the offer? Did he lie about being married? Maybe the cues were all wrong. Since when had she been able to read male minds? Never, that’s when. Her hand swayed from her side, just a little, but it was enough. The second her finger brushed his, he turned to scoop his hands around her head, and their mouths clashed.
Instinct took over. Her head spun, making sense of nothing while understanding her purpose. Her only purpose. That kiss. Lights sparkled behind her eyelids as her arms twined around his neck.
How did this happen?
God, his kiss was… powerful. Confident. Demanding. Shit, whatever consumed him infected her too. Their disease was pure lust and neither of them fought it. Let it take them down.
Her back hit the elevator wall. Roaming hands fought fabric, searching, squeezing, stroking.
“Fuck, I want you,” he breathed.
“More.”
Temptation stole his mouth to her throat, her breast, her cleavage. Damnit, her body tingled, her skin fizzed. This guy was everywhere; somehow in every part of her. And completely in control. Plucking her up, he twined her legs around him, letting his mouth return to the kiss it’d denied hers.
Shit.
They’d been drinking.
Hooking up wasn’t smart.
Strangers. In a hotel. Anonymous.
So many things were wrong with the picture.
Red flags flew everywhere.
But… what the hell? Inhaling his kiss, she gave herself to it, pushing his tongue with hers, matching his furious need. Fuck, his body was solid. She was too high up. Couldn’t feel—
He dropped her back to her feet and grabbed her hand to rush them from the elevator into a room. A very private, dark—living room. They didn’t stop, no. This was heading somewhere far more horizontal. He hurried through a door in the corner and swung her into his arms, squeezing her body to his.
“Last chance to back out.”
She actually laughed. “You think I’m here against my will?” Sliding her hands up his chest, she pushed his jacket off and got to work unfastening his shirt buttons.
He ducked, tracing his lips across hers, then his head fell back. “Even your voice is hot. Damnit, you’re a siren I can’t resist.”
Snagging his jaw with the gentle press of her fingernails, she tempted it down again. “Looks to me like you’re resisting,” she murmured. “You want to slow down?”
With a crooked brow, he walked, backing her toward the bed. “In a rush, Siren?”
“You got me going, now you’re hitting the brakes. Pussy tease.”
Jolting her body from his, he ripped open her shirt and tossed her onto the bed.
“No brakes,” he said, casting off his button down and shoes.
Shit, that physique. Solid was right. Defined, delicious, way more than the clumsy jocks she’d been with in college. Definition like that wasn’t bulk, it was finesse. Perfect.
Her fingers couldn’t keep away as he descended above her. Their mouths met slowly. A gentle press, a delicate touch.
“Now, JD,” she whispered, arching up, encouraging his mouth’s exploration of her neck.
Hard. Mm. And just right. His cock, encased in fabric, teased her. More. She wanted more.
Their kiss masked the shedding of her clothes. Skin on skin wasn’t enough. Coiling her legs higher around him, she loosened his belt to liberate her prize.
“We can go slow, baby.”
“No, we fucking can’t,” she gasped, squeezing him tight. “Your cock agrees with me. You’re outvoted.”
A gruff laugh preceded his kiss. The way his hips moved with her fist could be involuntary, but the motion betrayed him. He wanted it. Wanted her. And she wanted him to fulfill his desire. In her. All night long.
“Good.” The edge of need in his voice suggested his restraint was slipping. “I’m not in the mood to take my time.”
“That a promise?”
As satisfaction relaxed her, he plunged into her. Shit, now who was the one wearing that satisfaction?
Her teeth dug into her lip as he moved slow, his eyes locked on hers. Warming her up, easing her in, whatever it was, experiencing him like that gave her something new, something unexpected. A gratification that touched every part of her, inside and out. A belonging that felt safe, even while alarm bells rang.
Tightening the circle of her legs, she pulled him deeper, angling her hips, enhancing their connection.
“More.” The word du jour. “Harder. Fuck me, JD.”
Her day hadn’t started with promise. Her evening hadn’t begun with him. No, this guy wandered into her path from nowhere. The unexpected was exciting, an adventure. Sometimes life just happened and all you could do was enjoy the ride. And a ride like him didn’t come along every day.
Trust her to go to bed with a stubborn, egotistical agitator.
How did this happen?
His speed grew in time with his obvious need. Wasn’t so funny to tease anymore. Panting breaths and moving bodies took the place of words. Her hands kept wandering, learning his lines and sinking down to feel the point of their connection. He didn’t slow or stop. Their eyes met when she circled him with a forefinger and thumb, squeezing the root of him every time it plundered deep.
“JD,” she found her words and her fingers loosened above her clit. “Shit, JD.”
Because she was there, right there. Whining in pleasure, her body became more about her own climax than anything his was doing.
“Good girl,” he murmured.
Oh, fuck. The pressure eclipsed her ability to hear or see or breathe. Lost in that rigid moment, she wanted to live there, right there in that delight forever.