On the second step, I turn to him. “Masks stay on.”
He nods.
“Make it quick.” I might be lust-ridden, but I can’t miss Pascal.
At that, he smirks and leans to whisper to me, “I aim higher than that, Foxy. I guarantee you will be the one asking for more.”
Jesus, the arrogance. God help me, I believe him. “Keep dreaming, Romeo.”
“Let’s find out.” He pulls me up the stairs.
As soon as we reach the upper landing, a woman appears at our side and leads us down the hallway without a word.
The carpet is plush, the space lit with ambient lights and covered in complete silence.
Romeo drops my hand but puts his on the small of my back, and I barely stifle a gasp.
His touch quickens my breath. When we stop at the last door, I’m practically vibrating with need.
The hostess, or whoever she is, taps a card on thereader, and the door clicks open. With a smile, she hands the card to Romeo and leaves.
I glance after her, expecting a moment of hesitation and doubt, but before I can find any of that, Romeo pulls me inside and locks the door behind us.
I blink a few times, taking in the room. The flickering faux candles soften the space, with an enormous bed as its dominant feature.
Suddenly, I feel out of my depth. Mostly because Iamout of my depth.
I turn, and my gaze collides with Romeo’s.
Intense.
Penetrating.
Imprisoning.
Somehow, he already took off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. The glimpse of the masterpiece of his torso and abs quickens my pulse.
“Now what?” I blurt out.
A lazy smirk curves his lips as he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders. God, the man is built for sin.
“Now, Foxy, you let me admire that ass of yours while you walk toward that bed.”
I swallow and briefly consider flipping him off and leaving. But the option he offered… the confidence in his demand… is more intriguing.
As gracefully as possible in those stupid heels, I sway my hips and walk to the bed.
“And now?” I look at him over my shoulder.
“You take the dress off and spread those beautiful legs for me.” His voice is laced with a need that rivals mine.
I reach for the hidden zipper on the side and let the dress fall to the ground, finally free of it.
This time, when I look over my shoulder, his appreciative gaze floods my insides with a heady feeling.
He swallows. His jaw ticks. He stills completely, minus the flexing of his fingers. Even from here, I can see his pants are tenting already.
“I said, spread your legs.” He prowls toward me. “Bend over, Foxy. I need to taste your pussy.”
