He shook his head. “You’re so hot.” Then he bit down on his lip. “That just slipped out.”
“I’m not complaining.” Iwasblushing, though. “You’re hot too.”
He slid off his stool, keeping my hand in his. “I think we’d better end this night on a high note. We still have to get on a plane tomorrow, and if I have another drink, I’m not going to want to leave my bed.”
“That’s a good idea.” I hated it, but he was right.
We took our time walking toward my room, stumbling over each other and giggling along the way. I shushed Ben for being too loud, and he bit each of my fingertips.
When we finally reached my room, I should have let go, but I didn’t. Neither did he.
“This is me,” I said after a minute of us standing in front of my door.
“Yeah.”
But he didn’t step back. He stayed there, too close, the smell of salt and his skin making my head swim in a whole new way.
“Well.” My hand was still in his, and I wasn’t pulling it free. “Thanks for walking me. And the whole night, really. It was great.”
“Thanks for letting me give it to you, Mazzy-mazz.” His dimples carved deep. He started to lean in, then stopped, like he’d changed his mind.
This was where I was supposed to say good night. Close the door. Go to bed so I would be well-rested for my travel day tomorrow.
Except—
We moved at once. He caught my waist, I fisted his shirt, and then his mouth was on mine. Or mine was on his. I couldn’t say who started it. All I knew was we were kissing. Hard and messy. He groaned, and I parted my lips, welcoming his sweeping tongue inside.
Ben pushed back, bumping my shoulder into the doorframe. I fumbled for the key card, laughing against his mouth as he bent to keep kissing me. The door finally gave way, and we tumbled into my room, the heavy air and hum of the ceiling fan closing around us.
The door clicked shut just before my back hit it.
His mouth crashed into mine, hands tangling in my hair. I grappled with his shirt, bunching it, shoving my hands under it, getting to all the smooth skin and hard planes of muscle beneath. I’d never felt anything like him. Broad and taut, he went on forever and ever.
I yanked at his shirt, and his laugh rumbled against my mouth before he broke the kiss long enough to rip it over his head. I had approximately half a second to appreciate the view before he was on me again, his big hands sliding under my dress, hauling me closer.
We stumbled left then right—apparently walking in a straight line was beyond both of us—and my hip hit the desk, rattling the glasses and ice bucket.
“Ouch,” I squealed out of instinct, not because it actually hurt.
“Sorry—” The word came out muffled as he kissed my neck, his curls tickling my chin.
“Bed,” I gasped, trying to tug him in the direction I wanted him to go.
“Brilliant idea.” We started that way, but immediately tripped over his discarded shirt.
We staggered, half kissing, half wrestling, until the bed finally met the backs of my knees. I toppled onto the mattress, bouncing so hard, I nearly rolled off the other side.
“Stay put, baby,” Ben ordered as he crawled over me, looking even more like an eclipse from this angle.
“No chance,” I shot back, reaching for his waistband. I got it halfway undone before he yanked my dress over my head and tossed it somewhere behind him.
“Where’d it go?” I asked, breathless.
“Don’t care,” he said, his mouth finding mine again.
Buttons popped. Shoes thudded to the floor. We were a mess of limbs and laughter, so tangled we nearly knocked over the bedside lamp. Ben caught it at the last second and grinned down at me, curls falling in his eyes.
“We’re a disaster,” I said, grinning back at him.
