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He uncrosses my arms and brings them up over his shoulders then steps closer, towering over me. My arms tighten around his neck, but still, I turn away, keeping my mouth from him. His breath hits my neck and he pulls me taut against his hard body, growing more impatient with every moment I try to resist.
“Brooke,” he whispers huskily.
My eyes flutter closed as he bends and presses a kiss to my cheek, my chin, then lower, tipping my head back so he can reach the smooth recess at the nape of my neck. I shiver and he groans, obviously aware of what his touch is doing to me.
Torn between wanting to submit to my desire or hold my ground, I turn toward him, and his mouth crashes down on mine without warning. He kisses me mercilessly even as I struggle against him. My hands fight their way between us and I try to shove him off, but his ironclad embrace is too strong for me to break. I know I won’t be able to outmaneuver him, so I resist in a simpler fashion by holding completely still. He can force me against him, but I don’t have to respond, and I don’t have to kiss him back.
My rebellion makes him even more annoyed. His grip bites into my hip and his mouth moves over mine relentlessly. All the while, I ignore the sparks of desire stemming from his touch. I tell myself I would be reacting this way if any man kissed me like this, not just James. His kiss turns punishing, and I respond by digging my nails into his suit, hoping to break skin.
We’re ascending so quickly. I know any moment the elevator will ding and announce that we’ve arrived, but something changes in that short time. His touch turns from brutal to sensuous. His lips move over mine with tenderness. His hand drifts down my back in a slow caress, easing me closer until our bodies are flush. He’s rock hard and unyielding. I moan against him and fist my hands into his suit pockets.
The elevator dings and the doors whip open.
I break our kiss and inhale sharply, trying to fill my lungs like a madwoman. James wastes no time hauling me out of the elevator. It’s a few feet to the door. He swipes the key and we push inside, halfway through before our mouths collide. He opens his lips against mine and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. My purse is tossed across the room and his jacket follows. I tear at the buttons on his shirt and he reaches around to fumble with the zipper on my dress.
Our passion is fueled by our impatience. The last button springs free and I drag my hands up his toned chest and past his shoulders, taking the fabric with me. It slides down his arms and onto the floor, leaving his toned upper body completely bare. I feel my slip dress starting to slide down my body, but I’m too preoccupied with him, with his powerful, tan shoulders and arms on full display to stop it. I watch the muscles flex and coil as he yanks the garment the remainder of the way off. My strapless bra is already slipping down, halfway concealing my chest. I think he’s going to tug it off like he did with my dress, but instead he hauls me up against him and walks us into the suite’s living room. I’m a feather in his arms, and then I’m falling through the air, caught suddenly by the couch. He stands over me, his large frame bathed in bright neon light from the Vegas strip. A swath of dark blue darts across his face, and when our eyes meet, it gives him an animalistic glow.
I try to adjust myself to sit up straight on the couch, but before I can, James bends down and grips my thighs. With a hard tug, he drags me to the edge. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch as he steps closer.
His eyes drag down my body. It’s a suggestive perusal, as intimate as if his fingertips were following the same trail. I usually don’t care what people think of me, but I’m desperate to know his thoughts as he bends down onto his knees and pushes my legs apart so he can fit between them. His eyes are hooded, his touch searing. He drags his fingertips across my thighs and my stomach quivers. Then he grips them and inches them just a little…bit…farther…apart until the backs of my thighs hit the couch. Apparently pleased with my position, he skims his fingers higher across my stomach, and then up and over my bra. There’s no rush as he follows the line of the material, dragging his finger pad over each cup. My toes curl. With slow precision, he works the material down, and then my chest is bared for him.
