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“Take me upstairs,” she told him. “Now.”
He gave her a dramatic twirl—for show, she was sure—and then placed his hand at the small of her back and led her around for Kate to say her goodbyes to her family. Mirabeth and Charlotte were visibly disappointed Kate was cutting out early. Well, quite possibly, Mirabeth’s disappointment was related to Jude departing the festivities. Kate could certainly understand that sentiment. She’d be bummed as well to lose the striking eye candy, were she not the one secretly heading upstairs on Jude’s arm.
She caught yet another look of disapproval from her parents that she was the first to leave, but Kate was no longer concerned with that. Jude was already ushering her to the door and she was already luxuriating in the trill along her spine at this one impulsive and privately scandalous thing she was about to do.
Kate wasn’t the one-night stand type. Which was actually unfortunate for her, because she didn’t really date, either. Meaning it’d been forever and a day since she’d engaged in a sexy affair. And never before had she been entangled with a man as gorgeous as Jude McMillan.
“I had my assistant make the reservation when you stepped into the ladies room before dessert,” Jude explained as they traveled the marbled hallway toward the lobby, then rounded the corner to the check-in area, which they bypassed and went directly to the bank of elevators.
Continuing, Jude said, “The suite butler will meet us at
the door.”
They waited, alone, for the elevator to arrive.
He added, “I barely made it through that endless dinner. The dancing was a true testament to my fortitude. That hotter than hell body of yours grinding against me was practically my undoing.”
Moments later, they stepped into the car.
Jude’s arm went around her waist.
He was just about to yank her to him, she suspected, when a hand shot through the slit of the closing doors and they automatically jerked open.
A couple in formal eveningwear joined them.
Kate caught Jude’s under-the-breath grunt that their private party had been crashed.
As he bristled, she inquired of the couple, “An evening at The Met?”
“Yes,” said the woman in a luxurious black satin gown and diamonds. “La Traviata.”
“One of my favorite Verdi operas,” Kate mused.
Jude’s arm around her tightened. A thrill shot through her.
The small-talk only heightened the anticipation mounting between them.
The car stopped and the couple departed.
Jude murmured in her ear, “I could have already been inside you, Kate.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “There are probably cameras in here, Jude.”
“I can be discreet. And you’re not wearing any panties, remember?”
She didn’t really believe he’d dare do such a thing—at The Plaza! Then again… As she gazed up at his broody visage, she felt a tickle against her clit that all-but confirmed that, yes…he would do such a thing.
Kate barely heard the ding of the car or felt the halting at their floor, she was so enrapt by Jude. She walked with him to his suite, where they were greeted; though, Jude efficiently dismissed the butler for the evening.
Inside, candles were lit, as was the fireplace. Kate barely noticed. Jude instantly had her in his arms, kissing her senseless. His tongue twisted with hers, delving deep as he clutched her to him in a tight and territorial embrace that set every inch of her ablaze. Made her burn for him from the inside out.
Kate rationally knew losing herself in Jude wasn’t the smartest thing a woman could do. But she was wise enough to comprehend she had absolutely no power over how her body responded to this man.
She shoved his suit jacket over his broad shoulders and down his bulging biceps. Then she was suddenly loosening his tie and pulling it from around his neck. Ripping open the flap so that buttons flew everywhere.
How incredibly liberating!
Jude mumbled, “I’m going to fuck you hard, Kate. Every way you can imagine.”
