Page 22 of Watching Her

I’d never felt so frustrated in my life, so much so I tapped my forehead against the door while willing it to work.

Two more tries and the frustration really kicked in. Now I jiggled the handle. Hard. “Please.” My moan echoed in the hallway.

When I jiggled it again, even harder than before, I was pleasantly shocked when the door was thrown open. Which caught me off guard and I was pitched forward and directly into the arms, the very strong arms of someone much larger than me.

My palms rested flat on a surface, but my fingers were slightly curled, nails digging into a rock-hard substance. It took me a few seconds to realize I’d been knocked into a person. A man. I could tell because he was built like a brick wall, so solid I hadn’t budged him a single inch when I’d tripped.

As my eyesight cleared, I also realized he was wearing a towel wrapped around his waist. Very slowly, I lifted my head, now completely and thoroughly embarrassed. There was a quiet intensity about my handsome savior, anchored by striking slate-gray eyes that seemed to miss absolutely nothing.

He was much taller, his soft lips even more of a beacon than his stunning eyes. And the warmth of his body could easily ignite the embers buried deep within my core.

The man was a giant, several inches taller than I was.

When he cocked his head, only then was I able to comprehend he was the mystery man standing in the flesh. And wow, what sexy flesh it was. My heart was beating rapidly, the tiny shivers coursing down my spine catching me off guard.

“I think I have the wrong room. Eight thirty-two?”

Oh, wow. Oh… wow.

He didn’t speak for a few seconds, allowing the embarrassment to linger, but that was just fine by me. Being in his arms was amazing. His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “Nine thirty-two.”

“Oops.”

I managed to right myself yet was still standing only inches away with my fingers kneading his chest. His nostrils flared, his chin lifting, which allowed me a few seconds to enjoy his rugged features.

“I guess I should be going,” I managed breathlessly.

“I guess you should.” His voice was so deep, so heavenly wrapped with soft velvet, every inch of my body was shivering.

With heat continuing to shimmer across my cheeks, I started to back away before something very naughty captured my brain. If only for a few seconds, but enough I flew out of my comfort zone without mulling over the repercussions.

I kissed him.

Not just a peck on the cheek or a light brush of my lips across his, but a full, unhinged, unbridled kiss that you’d give a long-lost lover. I gripped his arm with one hand, sliding my other hand around his neck, tangling my fingers in his thick, soft hair.

He even pulled me onto my toes, holding me close and while I might have created the illusion of sinful passion, he was taking full control. His lips were soft yet demanding, the heat of his body explosive. I was driven into sheer euphoria, no longer able to feel my legs.

The way he explored my mouth highlighted utter dominance.

For a few seconds, nothing else mattered but being close, the kiss creating an intensely passionate moment. I was even allowed to lose myself in the moment, sweeping my tongue inside to taste the tang of scotch.

He rubbed his hand down my back, crushing his body to mine. I’d been right. He was hard as a rock. Every. Single. Inch.

My being lightheaded had nothing to do with the alcohol, the sweep of sensations caused by letting go and enjoying the moment.

But alas, as much as I enjoyed the hint of passion, it was fleeting as the realization I was kissing a complete stranger overpowered the sensual moment.

Somehow, I found the courage to back away, breaking the connection. I pressed my fingers against my lips, able to look him directly in the eyes. While I couldn’t read the look on his face, I was certain he was wondering who this wild and crazy woman was who’d decided to accost him.

Before I managed to find myself in even more hot water, I turned and rushed down the hallway, praying he wouldn’t follow.

When I was safely inside my room, I wished he’d ignored my mental plea and had followed me.

Oh, well, a girl could dream.

CHAPTER 6

Penelope