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Well, shit. He was blunt.
"You want to fuck me," he said.
I nodded a yes.
He smiled, charmed. "You don't play coy."
"Should I?"
"No." He looked into my eyes. "Do you want to have another drink in the lobby or in my room?"
"Your room."
His hotel room was a corner suite. It had a plush king bed, a wall-mounted TV, and a side room with a couch and a desk. That paled in comparison to the view outside the long windows.
The Bay Bridge was lit up in white, a gorgeous contrast against the dark blue water and sky around it.
San Francisco was beautiful.
I was being unfair, writing off the entire state of California. It had a lot to offer.
But none of it appealed as much as being able to meet Kat for brunch every Sunday.
His fingers grazed my neck as he clicked the door shut. His touch was soft. Commanding.
He went to hang his jacket on the wall.
My eyes stayed fixed on the view.
Nothing could have stopped me, definitely not the fact that I had no business poking around Nick's room without his permission.
I went straight to the balcony door, pulled it open, and stepped outside.
Cold air rushed over my skin. The rain had stopped, but the floor was still slick. I pressed my hands against the railing and peered to the mostly empty street thirty floors below me.
I was up high.
Too high for anyone to see me.
Inside the room, Nick poured two glasses of whiskey on the rocks. He was methodical about it. No rush, like he had all the time in the world.
It gave the nerves racing around my body time to catch up to my brain. The only thing I knew about him was his first name, and I was in his hotel room, ready to throw myself on his bed.
Was I reckless or brave?
His eyes met mine as he stepped onto the balcony. He was tall. Even in my heels, I was three or four inches shorter.
He handed me my glass. I drank quickly. I didn't need the taste. I needed the release from my inhibitions.
I set my empty glass on the side table sandwiched between two patio chairs.
His eyes passed over me. He moved closer, so he was three inches behind me, his body heat chasing away any goosebumps on my arms.
"I want to fuck you, Marie, but you need to understand that I do things a certain way."
I made a mental note that I'd told him to call me Marie. "What is that?"
"I'm always in control."
I squeezed the railing to steady myself.
"Am I mistaken, or do you want that too?"
"Yes." I bit my lip. It overwhelmed me, how much I wanted him in control. It had only been a passing fantasy. Something to go to when I couldn't sleep. Not something to seek out. "But what if I stop wanting it?"
"Say stop, and I'll stop."
"That simple?"
"Why make it complicated?" He leaned down, his mouth inches from my ear. "Take off your dress."
I turned so we were eye to eye. Or eye to chin, given our height difference.
His expression was intense, hungry.
I pulled the straps of my dress off my shoulders, first the left, then the right.
My bra was nothing fancy, but his eyes opened wide like it was the best thing he'd ever seen. Those eyes followed my hands as I pushed the dress to my knees and kicked it off my feet.
They made their way up my body, back to my eyes.
"Take off your bra." He stared back at me.
I unhooked my bra and tossed it aside.
He looked me over slowly, like he was taking a mental picture. "You're beautiful."
Heat surged through my body. I'd never stripped like this for someone, and I was doing it for a stranger. I was standing on the balcony in nothing but a thong and heels.
He traced a line over the cherry blossom tattoo on my side. "What does this mean?"
"They're just flowers."
"Not true." His fingers rested on the Latin quote next to the petals. "Memento mori. Remember your mortality." He looked at me as if to ask for an explanation. "You're a little young to worry about dying."
"I almost died when I was fifteen."
"When your parents did?" He traced the lines of my tattoo again and again.
My chest panged. Usually, I avoided talking about the accident. Usually, I avoided sharing anything that made me vulnerable.
But there was no reason to hold back. We only had that night. I was going to make the most of it.
I stared back into his eyes. "Yes. It was a car accident. It left me in the ICU for a week. When I got out, I couldn't walk, and my back was messed up. It took six months of rehab and physical therapy to get back to normal. I have to be careful, do all sorts of exercises and yoga, but I mostly manage okay."
"Is there anything you can't do?"
I took a deep breath. He was asking about sex, if there was anything he needed to be careful about. It was a concern and the main reason why I'd never considered anything casual. I didn't want to have a back spasm on a stranger's bed.
But, mostly, I'd been fine. I shook my head. "I'll let you know if it starts acting up."
"Did you have anyone to help you?"
I nodded. "My sister. She's done a lot for me. Worked full-time instead of going to college. I owe her everything, and I'd do anything for her." Like take a merit-based scholarship at a school across the country so she wouldn't feel like she had to help.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"In New York."
"Far away."
I nodded. "Too far."
The wind picked up. It was cold and I was nearly naked.
Nick must have recognized it in my expression. He rubbed my arms to warm me up.
It was incredibly effective.
I ran my fingers over the metal railing. "She's not like me. She's an optimistic, romantic person who sees the good in everything."
"What are you like?"
"I don't know. A cynic, I guess." I shifted so I could feel his chest against my back. "After that accident, I was struck with this knowledge that I could lose everything at any moment. I didn't want to forget that feeling." Or to ever hurt like that again. If I didn't let people in, they couldn't hurt me. It was lonely, but it was safe too.
He looked closer. "You never forget something like that."
"Do you assume you know everything?"
"Only most things." His smile faded quickly. He pressed his fingertips into my skin. "My mother had ovarian cancer. Stage four. She had a chance of survival, but it meant invasive surgery and a year of chemo and radiation."
"She decided to die instead of fighting it?"
"That is a pessimistic way of looking at it."
"And how did you look at it?"
"I was only nineteen. I was terrified."
I looked back to him. "You get scared?"
"Not anymore. Losing her, it made everything else feel trivial."
I nodded. I understood exactly what he meant.
"It was over fast. Two months."
I swallowed hard. "So you know too, how little the world gives a fuck about you or anything you want? That you need to grab it and hold onto it befor
e it's gone."
"I care what you want." He brought his body against mine. "You want to come?"
Heat surged through my body. Somehow, I didn't feel self-conscious. "Yes."
He moved closer. My bare skin pressed against his suit. Even with the thick fabric between us, I could feel the warmth of his body. I slung my hands around his neck and rose to my tiptoes.
He pulled my glasses off and set them on the side table. Almost. He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. The kiss threw gasoline on the fire raging through me. Any doubts I had were burned away. I opened my mouth to make way for his tongue. He was an amazing kisser, aggressive and in control.
His hands slid around my waist and held me close. My sex clenched. When his hands drifted to my ass, I almost screamed.
The kiss broke, and he stared into my eyes. His expression was so intense.
He pressed his lips to mine, and I knew we were done with the conversation part of the evening. Thank God, because I was quickly losing my ability to form a coherent thought.
Nick pushed my panties to my feet. I was naked on that balcony. The air was cold against my bare skin, but I didn't mind. My body was on fire. He was so close to touching me.
Then he was touching me. His hand skimmed my sex, stopping on my clit. The pressure was already intense. I slung my arm around his neck to keep my balance.
He moved a little faster, a little harder. His other hand went to my chest. He traced circles around my nipples.
His kiss broke, and he stared into my eyes with equal parts care and demand.
I stared back the best I could. It was too much. I had to close my eyes to contain the orgasm building inside me.
There.
My body clenched. I tugged at his oxford shirt, moaning as I came.
All my muscles relaxed at once. My knees buckled, but he caught me.
He lifted me into his arms, carried me into the main room, and laid me on the bed.
Slowly, Nick stripped to his boxers.
His body was a work of art. Hard and defined.
And not a grey hair in sight.
He pressed his lips against my neck then kissed a trail down my chest and stomach. "Spread your legs."
I did.
His fingertips brushed against the sides of my knees. They trailed up my thighs, getting closer and closer. He pressed his lips against my inner thigh. Then closer. Closer.
Then he was sucking on my outer lips. My legs rose of their own accord. Nick dug his hands into my thighs to hold them against the bed.
