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But tonight…
He could be hers.
Resting an arm over her head on the wall, he offered her a small smile, and tugged on her hair playfully. “What are you thinking about that’s g
ot you blushing, Scarlett?”
“Nothing,” she said, her cheeks going even hotter. She spun and pressed her key against the reader until it blinked green. The heat of his body was directly behind her, burning her.
Hands trembling, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. She should go inside. Leave him in the hallway, along with any bad choices she might have made with him. But…
Was it bad? Was it so wrong to want one night where she didn’t miss the love of her life? One night where she didn’t have to be alone? “Would you like some water? I have a few bottles in my mini fridge.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, letting out a soft laugh. “If I come in there, we both know it’s not going to be for water.”
“Like I said.” Heart pounding, palms sweating, she lifted her chin. “Want to come in?”
He stared at her, his hard chest rising and falling rapidly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ve been drinking.”
“I assure you, I can hold my liquor. Three drinks over a two-hour period doesn’t make me drunk.”
He took a step closer, not coming in, but not leaving, either. “Scarlett…are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“You’re not. I’m sober. And I’m horny. And I like you. And you said you would be here, for whatever I wanted, all night long. You keep looking at me like you want to kiss me, but you’re not, so I’m taking the initiative, and I’m inviting you to just go ahead and do it already. To kiss me. To make me forget. And maybe I’ll make you forget, too. I know you miss your wife, and I miss William, and…yeah. So I want us to be each other’s person tonight.” She lifted her chin, cutting herself off because she was babbling again. “But if you don’t want to—”
“Oh, I want to,” he said, coming in and kicking the door shut behind him. The second it clicked, they were in darkness. He grabbed her, curling his fist in the fabric at the bottom of her shirt, and hauled her against his impossibly hard body. He lowered his mouth to hers but stopped just shy of actually doing anything, his body tensing against hers. “Scarlett…”
The false name on his lips was somehow hotter than if he’d used her real one. Sliding her hand behind the nape of his neck, she nodded impatiently. He needed to stop worrying so much and just kiss her already. It wasn’t like this was forever. It was just a single night. They’d never see one another again after this. “Yes. I’m fine. Yes. I want this. So just do it already.”
He growled and closed the distance between them, his mouth melding to hers perfectly. The second their lips touched, it was like a thousand angels sang above, or a million fireworks went off, or whatever stupidly romantic sentiment a girl was supposed to think when she was kissing a guy who blew her metaphorical socks off.
Because Chris?
God, he was that guy.
He backed her toward the bed, his hand fisted at her back to support her as she stumbled over her own clumsy feet, and they both fell to the soft mattress, lips locked, tongues entwined. The weight of his hips fell between her thighs, and she swallowed a groan, because it had been so long since she’d felt a man’s body pressing into hers. His hand crept up, sliding over her hip, up her ribs, to cup her cheek softly.
Almost…tenderly.
It brought tears to her eyes.
Not because she was regretting her choice already, and not because she felt guilty for being with another man, but because she’d clearly chosen the right one.
His other hand slid under her butt, cupping the soft flesh as he rocked against her, sending a surge of pleasure shooting through her veins. At the same time, he deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers seductively. She was right. He tasted like whiskey and man. His cologne smelled like the beach, sandalwood, and Old Spice, and she had a feeling she’d never forget that combination. His skin on her skin. His mouth latched to hers. His hand on her butt.
It was all…all…
“Scarlett,” he breathed against her mouth. “Jesus.”
Apparently he felt it, too. She nodded, grabbing his shirt and undoing a button. “I know.”
He tore her shirt over her head before carefully peeling it off her cast, then kissed her again, not giving her time to be shy, or to second-guess herself. Because when his mouth was on hers, there was no thinking involved. It was just right. When she reached the last button, she pushed his jacket and shirt off in one swoop, and there was a faint sound as they fell to the floor. He wiggled his feet, and his shoes followed. He ended the kiss and strained to reach something.
A crash sounded as he knocked over the alarm clock instead.
He dropped his forehead to hers. “Shit.”
A laugh escaped her. An actual laugh. “What’s wrong?”
