I wake up the next morning feeling tired and unrested, mainly because Barrett Matthews has invaded my dreams. All night my mind constantly replayed every moment I've had with the man, leaving my body aching for something—anything—to sate the overwhelming need to touch and be touched. Even taking matters into my own hands didn’t help, and that always helps.
I’m just about to get up to grab the room service menu when the phone on the nightstand starts to ring. Since nobody is supposed to know I’m here, I realize that there’s only one person that would be calling me so early in the morning. I pick up the headset and bring it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, kitten,” an all-too-familiar voice replies, the same voice I’ve heard whispering dirty nothings in my ear all night and conjuring images in my mind so hot just thinking about it now has my body reacting. “I hope I didn't wake you.”
“Barrett, you are a man of your word, aren't you? I wasn't expecting to hear from you this soon.”
He chuckles, the sound moving through me and leaving a wave of warmth in its wake. “You’ve broken me. I can’t seem to get you off my mind.”
“Good to see I'm not the only one suffering,” I tease.
“You have no fucking idea,” he mutters, the undercurrent in his tone unmissable. As comfortable silence stretches between us, I find myself straining to just hear his breathing. God, I must have it bad, soon I’ll be trying to smell the guy. “I was calling to see whether you had plans for breakfast?”
“Well, I thought I'd be having breakfast of a very different yet still delicious kind in bed with this sexy stranger I met yesterday, but it appears it wasn't meant to be.”
“Walking away from you last night and being a gentleman was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“Probably as hard as you felt when you kissed me,” I reply, my voice almost a purr.
“You're incorrigible,” he replies gruffly, clearly affected.
“If only you knew how bad I could be." That earns me a laugh just as a knock at the front door of the suite grabs my attention. "Sorry, Barrett. Do you mind holding for a moment? Someone's at my door."
“Of course. Hopefully not too long though,” he muses. I get out of bed and slip a hotel robe over my silk chemise and walk through the penthouse to investigate.
With the phone still to my ear, I pull the handle and come face to face with the man himself, a sexy megawatt grin on his face and two little paper bags with red Sovereign Hotel stickers hanging from his fingers.
Looking him straight in the eye, I speak into the phone. “I’m sorry. A man demanding my attention has just surprised me with what I can only hope is breakfast. I’ll have to call you back.”
“I understand, Ms. Jacobs. Until next time.” Without taking his eyes off me, he takes his phone and slides it into his pant pocket.
“I look forward to it,” I mutter, totally enamored with his eyes, that mouth, and his strong chiseled jaw that has the barest hint of stubble I can only imagine would feel great sliding over my skin.
Dropping the phone from my ear, we stand there smiling at each other, mine undoubtedly goofy, his all-knowing.
His eyes drift down to take me in, which is the exact moment I realize I’m wearing an open robe over a barely decent silk nightgown that skims mid-thigh, and nothing else.
“I’d say I’m sorry for disturbing you so early but seeing you like this . . .” he says, moving his hand between us, “. . . I’d be lying. He ends his confession with a sexy quirk of his lips, and I almost have to grab hold of the doorframe to stay upright.
I’ve never met a man which so much raw power and sexuality oozing out of him. It’s so powerful I swear it simply leaches from his pores. Just being in his presence twice now has proven that whatever it is, his pheromones are strong enough to muddle the surest of common sense.
“And you say I’m trouble.” I arch a brow as I step back to let him in.
"I can guarantee that," he murmurs as he walks past me, bags in hand. He places them on the dining table before walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the city. "The view is amazing."
I close the door and turn around, finding him looking at me and not the scenery anymore, bringing a wry smile to my face.
“Breakfast and compliments will get you everywhere, Mr. Matthews,” I reply, moving toward the sofa and taking a seat, not missing the way his hungry eyes track me as I cross my legs.
Following my lead, he moves to grab the bags from the table before sitting next to me and offering one to me. "I guessed what you might like for breakfast. But then I figured, if you didn't like my offerings . . ." he leans in until our shoulders brush against each other sending a jolt of awareness shooting through me, ". . . I'd just kiss you until you got your fill."
I bite my lip to hold in a comeback, something along the lines of telling him exactly what he could fill me with. Instead, I take a deep breath to calm my raging hormones and look inside the bag, pleased to find a toasted bagel with salmon and cream cheese.
“Isn’t it a shame I hate bagels,” I say with a resigned sigh, relishing in the slight faltering of his confident demeanor.
“What?”
My snort has his tense shoulders relaxing immediately and his eyes narrowing on mine. “I actually love bagels, but I think I was looking forward to your other suggestion more,” I whisper.
He drops the bag out of his hand before throwing mine away, his hand hooking around my neck as he pulls me into him, his head slanting at the last minute before he proceeds to kiss me limbless. I gasp into his mouth with shock and delight, giving him the opening he needs to shove his tongue between my lips and take anything and everything from me. This is a different kiss from last night at the door, it's hungrier, and with a hell of a lot more urgency and need, none of which I thought was possible given that I seem to be putty in his hands.
My body melts into his and I wrap my arms around his shoulders and give him everything I have in return. Then I’m moving, my body being lifted and twisted around until I find myself flat on my back with a hot, heavy, and very hard Barrett covering me, pressing me into the cushions as his mouth plunders mine.
What seems like a lifetime, and a lot of kissing, licking, nipping, groping, groaning, and moaning later, Barrett tears his mouth from mine and pushes himself up, bracing his hands on either side of me, his blown eyes locking on mine.
“If we keep this up, you won’t get to eat your breakfast, let alone make your lunch reservation, and I won’t get time to deal with the few meetings I have today. And that will cut into our nighttime activities which include more of this as well as dinner . . .” He leans down and kisses me hard and fast and hot until I’m rubbing up against him and moaning.
I feel like I’ve just run a marathon, not struggling to recover from a best-wakeup-ever make-out session on a penthouse couch. There’s no ignoring the uncharacteristic giddiness in my stomach knowing he not only came to see me now but is also planning another date—hopefully one that doesn’t end at my front door and lasts well until tomorrow.
This man continues to surprise me. So if his aim is to keep me on edge, he’s succeeding.
“And are these prior engagements of yours of the consultant-type variety?” I tease, squeezing him playfully with my legs that are wrapped around his thighs, holding him close and not letting go.
“Mmm hmm,” he replies, his hooded gaze roaming over my face and down over my neck and chest to where my robe and chemise are not leaving anything to the imagination. I roll my hips up so that his straining hard-on slides right between my legs, loving the groan I draw out of him as I play him at his own game.
“That backfired didn’t it,” I breathe.
“Worth it though.” He grins and drops his head down, slowly brushing his lips over mine so lightly that it’s like a whisper’s kiss rather than the deep connection I’m craving. Right now, if he was to suggest ignoring the world and staying up here in the castle in the sky for the rest of the weekend—preferably naked—I wouldn’t even blink before agreeing to it. He tilts his head and runs the tip of his nose along mine. “So that’s a yes for dinner tonight?”
“Could room service be an option?” I ask, almost hesitantly. I may be a sexually confident woman, but I still feel vulnerable and a bit off my game with this man, and I'm more than aware that my plans for a quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am interlude with Barrett are on shaky ground right now. They have been since I learned he lives in Seattle. This isn't just a random Vegas hookup anymore, I've stupidly let hopeful thoughts of more creep in.
There’s no denying that his confidence and dogged pursuit of me both on the plane and now here at the hotel have intrigued me. There’s something so attractive about a man who sees what he wants and proves he’s willing to move heaven and earth to make it happen. But there’s also the raw masculine energy that radiates out of him in everything he does—every word, every look, every stroke of his tongue and touch of his hand. All of that defines him and tells me that although I still don’t know everything about the man, he’s shown me enough to draw me in.
“Definitely an option,” he growls before kissing me again.
And after another far-too-short and nowhere-near-satisfying-enough make-out session on the couch, Barrett moves to his feet and helps me up off the couch. My heart flips at the soft gaze he has as he smooths his hands down over my chemise and fixes my robe closed with the satin belt, before lacing his fingers with mine and leading me to the door.
With one last hard and fast kiss that ends soft and slow and full of promise, he shoots me a wicked grin before letting himself out.
And it’s not until I retrieve my bagel from the table that I spot the crisp white business card with cursive black lettering on the front that he left behind for me. I flip it over knowing that Barrett Matthews is nothing but thorough.
Kitten, be ready at 8 and rest up. You’re going to need it. B