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“Please, have you got anything?”
“There’s nobody in the penthouse tonight.”
“Sounds great.” James hands over his credit card without batting an eyelid.
Jesus, the penthouse? I try not to look shocked as he scribbles his signature on the form, and Vic hands him a keycard. I feel a little embarrassed. Does James bring girls back here a lot? I wonder whether Vic will look down his nose at me, but he just smiles and goes back to his computer, and James continues on toward the elevators. It’s that easy. Wow.
He presses the button and the doors open, we go inside, and I watch him swipe his card. There are twenty-four buttons on the pad, and he presses number twenty-four. The doors close, and the elevator begins to rise.
He turns to me and moves me up against the mirrored wall, then tucks a knuckle under my chin and lifts it so I’m looking at him.
“You sure about this?” he asks.
I nod. “Are you?”
He tilts his head, his eyes turning sultry. “Yeah. I’m not going to ask every five minutes, though, because there’s nothing sexy about that. You want me to stop at any time, you just tell me, okay?”
“Okay.” One-night stand etiquette, I guess. I’m half-tempted to admit to him that I’ve never had one, but I don’t want to come across as foolish or immature, and I don’t want him to stop.
In the back of my mind, an image flashes, and emotions whip through me—terror, shame, guilt. But the alcohol lets me push it all away. Just because it happened before doesn’t mean it’s going to happen now. James is lovely, and I’m not going to pass up the chance to sleep with him out of fear.
He leans on the wall, above my head, and nuzzles my ear. “You smell amazing,” he murmurs. I shiver, and he groans. “Jesus, every time you do that, it drives me crazy.”
I drive him crazy?
He crushes his lips to mine, and I moan, which makes him press up against me. Ooh, he has an erection, and Gaby wasn’t wrong—even through his jeans I can feel it, long and hard against my tummy. I lift my arms around his neck, meeting each thrust of his tongue with one of my own, and by the time the elevator stops and the doors open, we’re both out of breath and panting.
He takes my hand, and I follow him out and along the corridor. It’s empty, with only two doors, one on my left, and one on the right, further along. He leads me to the right one, swipes the card, and opens the door.
I go inside, but there’s no time to stop and look around because even before the door has swung completely shut, he backs me up against the wall, and his mouth is on mine again.
“Aroha,” he says with a groan, and the sound of my name on his tongue makes me dizzy with desire.
I’m not stupid; the alcohol has really kicked in, and I know I’m drunk—possibly the most drunk I’ve ever been, almost—almost—enough to completely wipe away the heavy feeling of despair that’s been growing since my phone call with my mum. I can still feel it, as if I’ve eaten a dozen stones, one after the other, and they’re sitting in my stomach, weighing me down. But the alcohol makes me not care.
The city was nearly destroyed twelve years ago in a horrendous earthquake. Many people died. But I’m alive. All that matters is right here, right now. I don’t care about tomorrow. There’s only James, and his hot mouth, and his hard body, and his strong hands.
We’re both consenting adults. Both single, now he’s broken up with Cassie. So what does it matter? Carpe diem, right?
Chapter Four
Aroha
He slides his hands under my butt and picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist, still kissing him as he carries me through the apartment. We bump into the sofa, then the doorway, and we both laugh.
I glimpse a leather sofa, abstract art on the walls, a gleaming kitchen, and a fantastic view of the city, and then he’s going through the door to a separate bedroom.
Stopping in front of the bed, he lowers my feet to the floor. I toe off my shoes, and he does the same, and then we’re kissing again, hungrily, as if our lives depended on it. God, I’ve never wanted a man so much. I want to devour him. I want him to devour me. I want him inside me—I want him to fuck me more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.
He unbuttons his shirt, and I toss my purse on the chair, then tear off my top. He takes off his jeans, and I put my phone on the bedside table, then slide down my pants and kick them away. He kisses me again as he undoes my bra, and I feel a brief flare of nerves as he draws the straps down my arms, but the look in his eyes as he drinks his fill wipes away any nerves.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, “Jesus, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
I laugh and fall back onto the bed, and he grins and climbs on top of me, lowering down so he can kiss me again. He’s only wearing his boxers, and wow, the man is built like a god. All his muscles are tight and toned, from his bulging biceps to his defined abs and pecs. Ooh, his skin is hot against mine, and now there’s hardly any clothing between us I can feel his erection, still thick and hard as he presses against me.
He lifts his head, and his turquoise eyes are blazing. “What do you want, Aroha?” His voice is husky with desire. He kisses up my jaw, runs his tongue around my ear, and sucks the lobe. “How do you like it, baby girl?” He kisses back to my mouth, then touches his lips to my nose. “Sweet and tender?”
I dig my nails into his back. Ignore the memories hovering like ghosts at the edges of my mind. “I want you to fuck me into next week,” I say, without reservation.
