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“Because I’m staying here.” He took a sip.
He was staying here? At the Lowell? The place was a thousand dollars a night. And then a thrill of excitement shivered up my back. He had a room, just upstairs. Minutes away.
I took another sip of martini, feeling it burn down my throat. I turned to find him looking at me, his dark eyes fixed on me. Our gazes held. I couldn’t look away.
“What are you doing here, Sarah?” he asked, his voice low.
You. I came here for you. The words rose to my lips, but I didn’t say them. Instead I said, “I’ve had a hard week. I’m tired of making decisions. I want a drink, and I want to stop thinking, and I don’t want to sleep alone.”
There it was. The words I would never say to a stranger I’d just met in a bar. But I could say them to this particular stranger. This stranger, and no one else.
I kept my gaze on him, reading his reaction, because I knew how to read every line of his face. His dark eyes didn’t even flinch.
“So don’t,” he said.
I wanted him. If there was a way to hide that, I didn’t know what it was. I wanted to taste him and to touch him. I didn’t care if he was picking me up in a bar for a one-night stand. I wanted him any way I could get him, for as long as I could have him. Wanting him had brought me this far, doing something I’d never imagined doing. And now it was driving me crazy.
John the art dealer put his drink down. He reached into his pocket and put a few bills on the bar. Then, thank God, he stood, turning to look at me.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Twenty
Samantha
* * *
It was a lovely hotel, I was sure. I didn’t pay attention.
As Sarah, I followed John to the elevator. My heels clicked on the marble floor. I could feel the pulse beating in my throat.
We had the elevator to ourselves. As the doors closed, John swiped his card and pressed the button. Then he turned, cupped a hand to the back of my head, and kissed me.
He tasted like man. Like bourbon. Like pleasure. Finally. Finally. I slid my hands under his jacket and let him open my mouth. Incredibly, with the desire that was drenching both of us, he teased me, running his tongue along the inside of my lip, letting his teeth scrape my skin. His fingers pushed into my hair, his thumbs pressing just below my ears, the heat of his body radiating to mine. I ran my hands down his chest, his perfect stomach. God, he was so gorgeous.
He broke away, not moving far from my mouth. “You didn’t say yes,” he said.
I moved my hand further down, slid my fingers beneath his belt. “Yes,” I said.
His body tensed under my touch, his muscles flexing in surprise. I paused my hand. “You’re very forward,” he said.
Sarah wouldn’t give a damn about that. “Do you object?”
In answer he leaned down and kissed the side of my neck, letting his teeth scrape the sensitive skin. I let out a breath and my eyes closed in bliss. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire.
“I think I can make you a little more obedient,” he said in my ear.
Before I could answer, the bell pinged and the elevator doors opened. John pulled my hand from under his belt and led me down the hall.
I followed him. The longer I did this, the more I was Sarah. The man leading me into his hotel room wasn’t my boss, he was a stranger I’d just met an hour ago. I was a woman who spoke her desires and got what she wanted, and what I wanted was sex for one night with the man before me. I didn’t know this stranger’s last name, and it didn’t matter. I was going to have him anyway.
He didn’t turn the lights on in the room. He closed the door behind me and pulled me into another kiss, this one deeper. I kissed him back as I tugged his tie out of its knot.
He broke the kiss as I dropped the tie on the floor and pushed his jacket off his shoulders. “That forwardness again,” he said in the dim light, amused.
I dropped the jacket alongside the tie. “I’m used to getting what I want.” The words felt good to say.
“And what do you want?” he asked.
