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"So hard."
The deep baritone of his chuckle rolls over me. "So you study in bars."
"Sometimes." I shrug. "Anywhere with noise, really."
"And you only drink alcohol sometimes. What else do you do, sweet Piper?"
"I…" I start to answer him, truly, I do. But his hand touches the back of my neck, and I realize I don't want to talk at all. I want this man to kiss me. Now. Something about him…calls to me. I can't explain it. All I know is the longer I go without feeling his lips on mine, the more I need to feel them. It's almost a compulsion at this point. "Cortez? Can you stop talking and kiss me now?" I plead, beyond caring if it's too forward or fast.
"Oh, fuck yeah," he growls, dipping his head. His lips land against mine, his kiss soft at first, as if he's giving me time to change my mind or back away. I don't want to change my mind, though. I want this man to kiss me like he can't stop himself.
I tip my head back further, greedy for more.
Cortez takes the hint. A soft growl rumbles from his chest, his tongue flicking against my bottom lip. I gasp, parting my lips. He swoops then, licking inside my mouth. He tastes like beer and mint, an unusual—but not unpleasant—combination. Reality spirals away, the bar disappearing between one inhalation and the next.
His kiss is masterful, reducing me to ash in moments. I gasp as desire surges through me in a powerful wave unlike anything I've ever felt before now. It's so strong, it's almost frightening, so potent, it's as if it's alive. Every move he makes only makes me ache for more. His tongue against mine makes my clit throb. His hands in my hair turn my nipples to hard, painful points. My body trembles at the sound of his raspy growl.
"Leave with me," he whispers, placing little pecks against my lips. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, but I want you all to myself for the night, pretty Piper."
For the first time in my life, I throw caution to the wind.
"Yes," I whisper.
Cortez takes me to his room in downtown Nashville, not even five minutes from the bar. The hotel is situated near the Legislative Plaza, overlooking the State Capitol. His suite is gorgeous, but I don't see much of it. As soon as we cross the threshold, I drop my bag and launch myself at him.
He catches me, boosting me up into his arms.
I land with my back against the door, my legs wrapped around his waist.
"Fuck," he growls, attacking my mouth with a scorching kiss. "You're an eager little thing, aren't you?"
"Yes," I sob. He couldn't keep his hands off me on the short drive over. The elevator ride up to his room nearly did me in. I'm a mess of competing desires and aching need, unsure where to begin or what I want most. He said we didn't have to do anything I don't want to do, but I think I'd hand him my soul to get him naked at this point.
I don't even care what that says about me.
"Poor baby," he croons. "Are you hurting for me?"
"So bad," I cry, writhing against the door. I delve my fingers into his hair, pulling the short strands. "God, Cortez. I hurt everywhere."
"Yeah?" He plants his hands on my ass, using them to grind me against his massive erection. "You want me to take care of you, Piper?"
"Yes," I moan. "Please."
He kisses me again, peeling me off the door. We stumble through the sitting room and into the bedroom suite. Downtown Nashville glitters through the windows, the city's lights reflecting like stars in the glass. I barely have time to notice it before he's laying me out in the middle of the big bed. I sink into it like I'm sinking into a cloud.
He follows me down, kissing me again and again. I get lost in his full lips and rich taste. He's beer and mint and spice, everything strong and right in the world. I could get addicted to him and his kisses. Maybe I already am.
He kisses me like he's starving for me, but he takes his time undressing me, slowly unveiling each inch of skin. It's like I'm a gift he's unwrapping, one he's savoring. He touches me everywhere, his lips and hands trailing over my body until I feel drugged with pleasure, completely overwhelmed by him.
His eyes are on fire; his cheeks flushed with desire.
I groan low in my throat when he palms my breasts through my bra. He finds a hard nipple and pinches. My eyes fall closed on a quiet moan, my back arching from the bed.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he says, his voice a dark rasp of sound.
He makes me feel beautiful. I'm not curvy in all the right places like a lot of women. I don't have an hourglass figure. I have boobs, sure. But I'm pear-shaped, carrying most of my weight in my belly and hips. He seems to love it, though.
"Oh," I moan, arching again when he rolls my nipple between his fingers. I never knew that could feel so good. Until tonight, I never knew a lot of things. Like how amazing it feels to have his rough hands glide down my sides or how incredible he sounds when he's panting in my ear. Or how sexy it is when he growls my name.
Dipping his head, he presses his mouth to my throat, planting kisses all over the side of it as he slides my bra down one arm and then the other. I tilt my head to the side, granting him access to the peaks and valleys of my collarbones. He nips me there, marking my skin.
"Fuck," he groans. "You look good wearing my marks, Piper."
"Show me."
