But tonight feels like theperfectoccasion.
I smooth my hands down the silky material, checking my reflection one more time. My freshly styled hair falls in loose waves over my shoulders, the icy highlights catching the light. The deep green brings out the blue in my eyes, and mycheeks are still flushed from the cold—and from Cole's kisses at Somerset House.
God, those kisses.
“Get it together, Rory,” I murmur sternly to my reflection, but I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face.
Once we got back to the Landmark, Cole had insisted on getting us a reservation despite it being a Thursday night over the busy holiday season, claiming he had “connections.” Then, after exchanging phone numbers, he’d dropped me off at my room door and promised to text if there was a change of plans.
I glance at the clock. Seven-twenty. Ten minutes until I'm supposed to meet him downstairs. Plenty of time to—
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and my heart does a little flip.
Cole?
I cross the room and pull open the door, and there he is, standing in the hallway. The sight of him literally steals my breath. He's changed into dark pants and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal those tattooed forearms that I've been secretly fantasising about since this morning. His dark hair is slightly damp, as if he's just showered, and he's tidied his beard, revealing the strong line of his jaw.
But it's his eyes that hold me captive—those moss-green eyes that are currently travelling down my body with an intensity that makes my skin prickle with awareness.
“Hi,” I manage, my voice embarrassingly breathless. His eyes snap back to mine, and what I see in them makes my knees weak.
Heat.
Want.
Something darker and more primal, sending a shiver straight through me.
“Rory,” he breathes, and my name sounds like a prayer. Like a curse. Like both at once.
He runs his hand through his hair, his jaw clenching hard, and then he's moving.
In two strides, he's through the doorway, his hands coming up to frame my face before his mouth crashes down on mine with a hunger that makes me gasp. I barely register the door closing behind him—he must have kicked it shut—because all I can focus on is the way he's kissing me like he's drowning and I'm air.
His lips move over mine with desperate intensity, his tongue sweeping into my mouth when I part my lips on a moan. One hand slides into my hair, angling my head exactly where he wants it, while the other spans my waist, pulling me flush against the solid heat of his body. I clutch urgently at his broad shoulders, trying to find purchase, trying to remember how to breathe. But then his teeth graze my bottom lip, and rational thought scatters completely.
“Fuck,” he groans against my mouth, walking me backwards until my spine hits the wall. “Rory,Christ—” His body presses against mine, pinning me to the wall, and I can feel every hard plane of muscle, every racing beat of his heart. When his hips press forward, I feel the evidence of his arousal, and my entire body lights up with answering need.
“Cole,” I gasp when his mouth leaves mine to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, down the column of my throat. His teeth scrape against my pulse point, and my knees actually buckle, but he catches me easily, one strong arm banding around my waist to hold me up.
“I'm sorry,” he murmurs against my neck, though he doesn't stop kissing me. His lips glide to the sensitive spot just below my ear, making me whimper, the sound desperate even to my own ears.
“I know I'm early. I know we're supposed to go to dinner.” His mouth finds that spot again, and I arch into him with a fractured moan. “But I got to my room and couldn't stop thinking about you. So I showered, changed, and told myself I'd go wait downstairs like a gentleman.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes blazing with intensity. “Then I got to your floor and the elevator stopped for a couple who were getting on, and before I knew it, I was outside your door—” His jaw clenches. “I had to see you.”
The raw honesty in his voice and in his eyes makes something in my chest crack open.
“So I knocked.” He continues, his thumb tracing my cheekbone with devastating tenderness, even as his other hand grips my waist with possessive heat. “And you opened the door looking likethis.”
His gaze sweeps over me, hot and hungry.
“It's only been an hour since I dropped you off, and somehow, you're even more fucking breathtaking—” He breaks off, shaking his head. His eyes drop to the sweetheart neckline, dark and possessive, before dragging back up to meet mine. “I took one look at you and lost every good intention I had.”
“You lost your good intentions?” I whisper, my hands sliding up to cup his face.
“Completely. One look and all I could think about was doing this—” He kisses me again, slower this time but no less consuming, his tongue sweeping against mine in a way that makes heat pool low in my belly.
“And this—” His mouth moves to my jaw, my throat. “And about a dozen other things that would make us miss our reservation entirely.”
