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Under an hour later, we were on our way to the Starlight Hotel. He navigated the car through traffic like a pro, never once swearing or jamming on the gas like I did when people pissed me off. He just slung one wrist over the wheel and laced the fingers of his other hand with mine and sang along softly—and off-key—to the radio.
Every moment I loved him more. Not long ago, that realization would’ve scared me. Now it gave me a soft, warm glow.
We checked in and found our way to our room without trouble. The wide pair of windows overlooked Times Square, and I pressed my hand against the glass, seeing the gaudy neon and blinking lights as if they were brand new. As if I were brand new to the city, just a tourist on a day pass. My real life was elsewhere, but tonight I was on vacation. My companion just happened to be a stupidly sexy male-model-wannabe with a body made for sin.
He pressed his groin against my ass and traced the web of scars on the back of my hand as we gazed down on the city together. Seeing it as one. His breaths heated my ear, the side of my neck. His other hand lingered low on my belly. Stirring things inside me that refused to be banked when he was in the vicinity.
“So romance, huh?” he murmured.
“Yeah. I’ve heard it’s a thing.” Nerves buzzed to life as he spun me around into his arms in an aborted dance move. Plus we didn’t have music. Not that he seemed to care. He swayed against me, rolling his hips in a way that should’ve been illegal. And I rolled mine right back, because every part of me was compelled to respond in kind.
He reached up and undid my braid as was customary, but he took his time. Normally he tore into it like a kid ripped apart wrapping paper. Not tonight. He separated each individual chunk and let them fall around my face, fingercombing the wavy strands until they bounced over my shoulders. Then he tipped up my chin and kissed me as sweetly as we continued to dance, bare feet climbing over each other, bumping and nudging into a rhythm that was all our own.
“Room service?” he asked breathlessly between kisses, and I had to grin.
“Self-denial is part of romance, hmm?”
“No. I intend to satisfy all of your appetites tonight.” His thumb trailed down my throat, a subtle pressure, and my eyes slid closed. “Promise,” he breathed into my ear.
As if I had any doubt.
He moved away to the table beside the bed to pick up the binder that contained the room service menu. Sitting on the mattress, he patted the spot beside him. “C’mon. Help me pick stuff.”
Before I’d even moved, he held up a hand. “And no complaining about the cost. I’ve got it. We’re covered.”
I bit my lip to try to hold back everything that nearly tumbled forth. Not yet. I would tell him what I’d found tonight. That, at least, I could share. I had to, because I couldn’t make sense of what I’d read. Maybe he’d have an idea for my next step.
Our next step. I sure as hell didn’t know how I’d make any without him.
Nodding, I sat beside him and grabbed the menu. Before I knew what had happened, he’d talked me into steaks and baked potatoes and mango ice cream for dessert.
And for later, chocolate covered strawberries. Apparently those were standard “night of romance” fare. I had a lot to learn.
In the meantime, at least he was sticking with the lessons I already had semi under control. Like the ones where we spread out length-wise on the mattress, kissing like maniacs while we waited for our food to be delivered.
His hand slipped into the back of my jeans to cup my ass. He gave it a brisk rub before sliding away to offer the same treatment to the other cheek. Then he slipped between them, but not to my pussy. His pinky circled there, almost daring me to question him, to do anything but gasp into his mouth as he slowly, God, so slowly pressed inward.
“First I’ll put my mouth here,” he said, and I could only nod, because in my current state that sounded like a fine plan. “Fingers next. More than just this one little pinky. I bet you can take two.”
Somehow I found myself nodding. This man could lead me to the penthouse balcony ledge and convince me it was only a small jump.
“Three?”
Doubt was beginning to creep in the farther his finger traveled, though I couldn’t deny it felt good. Something was happening inside me. The drag of his skin over those sensitive muscles seemed to ignite my clit until it pounded furiously. Just when I was sure he’d pushed me as far as I wanted to go, he went a little farther. And I let him, with my damp forehead pressed to his and his warm breaths caressing my lips like a kiss.
“Three,” I replied. No part of me was off-limits to him. It couldn’t be.
“After fingers, then my cock. You’ll take that too.” His mouth brushed mine, a quick tease. “Maybe we’ll slide that toy in your pussy, so you know what it’s like to be completely full.”
“I feel pretty full right now,” I mumbled, and he laughed, cupping my cheek with his free hand.
“It’ll be more. So much more,” he murmured, and I fell into the promise in his eyes. There was no fear there, only rightness. Only us.
The knock on the door jarred us both. I jerked back and he chuckled at what had to be flags of color burning in my cheeks. I tugged at my clothes while he calmly responded that we’d be right there, then went to wash his hands. He came out drying them on a towel that he hooked in his waistband before letting the guy in to set up on the circular table tucked beside the window.
I wandered over to check out the spread, mentally tallying the cost of our fancy meal. Whether or not that millions story was true, I’d never be someone who spent frivolously.
But then again, I also couldn’t say no to Caribbean blue eyes that met mine while he offered me a bite of baked potato
