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“I do. Because I have a theory about dates too.”
Her theories are my undoing. This I have to hear. “What is it?”
“The best ones end unplanned in a hotel.”
There’s no way The Escape has a room free on a Friday night. But there are other hotels if they don’t. Not quite as close, but still, I’ll find one. Dammit, I’ll fucking find one.
Ten minutes later, thanks to the serendipity of a last-minute cancellation, I’ve got a key card to a room at the most sought-after hotel in town.
7
IT’S AN ORDER
Elodie
There will be no DNFing.
I want the opposite. I want to finish him. I want him to finish me. Over and over, again and again. In all the ways.
The second the brass doors to the hotel elevator shut, I back up to the corner of the lift. He stalks over to me, prowling, eyes hard, dark with desire. He cages me in, grabs my face, and crushes his lips to mine.
It’s aggressive in the way I fantasize about. A man in control. A man who’ll hold me down, pin my wrists, fuck me hard.
He kisses like he knows precisely what he’ll do to me tonight. I’m outrageously wet in seconds. I loop my arms around his neck, trying to tug him closer when he stops abruptly.
He breaks the hard kiss and pulls back, but doesn’t quite end it. Instead, Gage downshifts with his lips still on me. His kiss turns slow, seductive, a long tease of a kiss.
That throws me off in a brand new—and not at all unwelcome—way.
Maybe he’s not only a rough, hard man in bed. Maybe he’s many things in bed. Perhaps he can play many parts. He’s kissing me now like a man who’ll take his sweet time, draw it out deliciously, fuck me slowly.
Make me beg for every inch of his hard cock.
And my god, is it hard and thick against my hip.
My head goes woozy as the reel of possibilities plays out.
Then the car slows at the fifth floor, and he breaks the kiss. I can barely think from the most thorough, mind-bending kiss of my life. I’m shocked it only lasted five floors. I feel a little lost in time and space with him as he takes my hand and leads me down the hall. We reach the room, and he slides the key over the door.
Once it’s open, he says dryly, “Want a tour of the room?”
I shake my head as the door shuts and the soft glow of a lamp lights the room.
I grab his face, running my fingers along his scruff, loving the feel of his stubbled jaw. “Not at all.”
“Good. Because I don’t give a fuck about the room. I care about one thing right now,” he says, his voice rough, raspy, and full of heat.
“What’s that?”
“Tasting you, cupcake. Because I bet you’re as sweet as I’ve been imagining. Now, why don’t I get on the bed, and you sit on my face? We can take a great sex challenge.”
“Yes. Please. Now,” I murmur as all the breath whooshes from my lungs.
Maybe fantasies do come true.
He hauls me up, tosses me over his shoulder, and carries me to the king-size bed, then sets me on my back.
The covers are dark blue.
