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Buzz couldn’t stop staring at the man through the crack in the door. The pictures didn’t do him justice at all—they had never shown the muscles on his chest and arms. How much did this man work out, every day? she thought to herself. If she hadn’t been hot before he came in, she was certainly hot now … in a completely different way.
As she watched, he shed the black pants and laid them on the dresser, leaving him in tight white boxer shorts that left nothing to the imagination, nothing. Which just meant that she was in the closet for the night or forever, because she was not doing an interview with a nearly naked man. Nor was she going to announce her presence to one. It was starting to dawn on her that she had messed this up completely.
Jonas Raiden sat on the end of the bed, right in her perfect line of vision through the crack in the closet, and pulled off his socks, casually tossing them one after another on the floor. Both landed very close to the closet, too close for Buzz’s comfort. That was why she was shifting in her seat, not any other reason.
Before she knew what he was going to do next, he stood with a cocky grin and slowly slid off the white boxers to reveal his not-so-hidden before penis. A very nice one, in Buzz’s opinion. Silently slamming her hand over her mouth, she suppressed a groan at the sight. If he were dating someone, they were lucky—very lucky indeed.
Sitting back down, he was still facing her as he took his penis in his hand and stroked it a few times, leaning back a little as he did it. His eyes were on the closet she was in. It was well worth the wait for this. It wasn’t going to make it onto paper, but it would make a good memory for lonely nights. Lonely, jobless nights.
“Come out and help me,” he said, looking right at the closet she was in.
Sitting stock-still, she hoped that he had brought someone else home with him. Anyone else. Someone who was still in the living room area of the suite, despite him being naked in the bedroom. Please don’t let him have seen me in the closet, she prayed.
Another firm stroke. “You, red, in the closet. Come out.”
“No, thank you.” Her voice sounded shaky even to her. Her eyes were still on him, but her mind was looking for a way out of this.
“This is what you came for, isn’t it?” He held the erection in his hand. Suddenly, she wished she had just walked out of the closet hours ago.
“Fuck,” she hissed under her breath. Her only option was to barrel out and hope he didn’t recognize her at the wedding if he went. Maybe she shouldn’t go to the wedding just in case. Maybe she should just leave the country altogether—her mom was definitely going to kill her for this. Her entirely awesome plan had completely backfired.
“Maybe that too.” Her heart rate picked up as she watched him stand and walk towards the doors. He casually slid them open.
“Hello,” she said weakly.
“Hello.” He held out his hand to her as he looked her over, appraising her from head to toe. Buzz knew what she looked like after hours in the hot closet, and it wasn’t good. Her hair was probably curled and damp, and her clothes were sticking to her right down to her black skirt.
Buzz grabbed his hand because she had nowhere else to go, and he pulled her to her feet. With her hand encased in his, he brought her towards the bed until he had sat down. Once seated, he pulled her close to him and slid his hands over her body. Buzz stood stock-still, frozen with fear. Though fear might not have been the feeling that was rushing through her body, that was something else.
He easily unbuttoned her skirt with a flick of his finger. “Name?”
“T-Trixi,” she said lamely. Yes, it sounded just like it felt: hookerish.
The name brought a sexy smirk to his lips, a smirk she shouldn’t like but did. Way too much. He knew she was lying and didn’t seem to care.
“Well, Trixi, how much do you charge? Or are you here for something else?” He slid the skirt down her hips. For some reason, she couldn’t stop him, didn’t even want to.
This was her chance to get the interview. She was now in her panties, but it was an interview just the same—a good one.
Or maybe this wasn’t the time to bring up the paper, to tell this man that was naked in front of her that she worked for the biggest paper in town. A paper he could easily sue because of that.
“I, uh … got lost,” she stammered as his strong, warm hands pulled down her panties as easily as the skirt. His dark eyes never left hers, not looking down at what his hands were revealing.
“In my closet?” His eyebrow went up in question, but his hands slid her button-up shirt off her shoulders, then let it flutter softly to the floor to join her skirt and panties.
Thoughts of running away from this man were long gone. What little interaction they were having shouldn’t have been enough to keep her there, wanting his touch, but it was. All she wanted, all she longed for was his next touch.
“This isn’t my room?” she threw out as a possible reason for her being in that location.
The answer made him laugh, causing her knees to go weak. Or maybe it was his hands that were doing that, because the tank top was gone, and her breasts were now free of the bra that had been holding them not a second before. He was quick, but not quick enough for her.
“Do you want to be here, Trixi?” His eyes swept over her body in question.
He hadn’t touched her skin yet, the feather-light brushes as he removed her clothes notwithstanding, but every fiber in her wanted him everywhere, touching everything. It was driving her to distraction that he didn’t touch her.
“I, uhm … I …” She should’ve said, “no,” but the word wouldn’t come out. Such an easy word to say until his eyes swept her body again, and his tongue slipped out to wet his lips, all of which she wanted desperately on her body. Her resolve completely flew out the window, and her words sounded foreign as she whimpered, “yes.”
Instantly, he wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her closer to him. His hot breath brushed her nipple, causing her entire body to tremble slightly. His tongue snaked out and slipped across her beaded flesh, causing her involuntary moan of, “yes.”
