AllFreeNovel
Share Us
After their drive back from the desert, they left the car with the valet. Walking into the lobby with Sam, Ethan started in the direction of Culinary Dropout, one of the hotel’s best-reviewed restaurants. They were halfway past the gaming pit when Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him in the direction of the slot machines.
“Don’t you want dinner?” Ethan asked, pointing at the
restaurant quickly vanishing in the distance. “I’d planned to make a proper date of this.”
“Next time.” There was a wicked glint in her green eyes, a naughty gleam he was more accustomed to seeing from himself in playback monitors as he gave a girl the look.
No mistake about it, Sam was giving him a fuck me look. With the way she was tugging his shirtsleeve and moving them in the direction of the guestroom elevators, she was in a hurry to get things underway.
Ethan wasn’t going to argue. Sure, she’d said no sex, but that was her rule to break, not his. Still, he was going to make her say the words before he let her jump his bones.
“Room service then?”
“Yeah,” she replied with a shy grin. “Room service.”
“Your room or mine?” He was hesitant to take her up to the suite after Julian’s sudden appearance the night before. But he didn’t think the older man was going to show up a second evening in a row. His time was too valuable, and with his threat already delivered, Ethan wouldn’t be seeing him again until his week was up.
The question gave Sam pause though. She stopped dragging him and took a moment to seriously consider the options.
Then that devilish gleam returned and she smiled, her expressions wavering between conflicted good girl and a woman who wanted to pounce. Ethan had seen both looks on other women, but never on one woman at the same time. She wanted to be bad, but she was having trouble letting herself do it. He’d need to tread lightly with Sam. One wrong move would make her second-guess what she was doing, and the little angel on her shoulder would tell her to walk away.
Little angels were never any fun. Ethan had always preferred to follow the advice of his inner devil, even when he knew it would end up nowhere good. Life was too short to play it safe all the time.
He just needed Sam to take a chance and let herself be bad for once. Ethan was something of an expert in the care and handling of bad girls.
“Your room,” she replied at last.
“My room it is.”
By the time Ethan swiped his card in the door of the Provocateur Suite, Sam’s tummy was doing backflips of nerves and excitement. On the elevator ride up she had questioned her decision a good three or four times, switching between best idea ever and what are you thinking? As the door swung open she was settling on best idea ever, but there was still a chance she’d change her mind five more times before they got to the bedroom.
“Do you want me to call for room service now, or wait a bit?” He was giving her an excuse to buy some time.
Sam’s heart thudded. Maybe they should eat first? It might give her an opportunity to settle down and make a pro-con list in her head. Once she did that, she’d definitely be able to deal with the situation a little more rationally.
Don’t be an idiot, she scolded herself. The only pro you need to focus on is the incredibly sexy, shockingly thoughtful, giant-dicked man standing in front of you. You should ask him to… “Take off your clothes,” she finished out loud, listening to the inner voice and speaking without thinking. Her hand flew to her mouth the moment the words were out, like she might have been able to stop them or at least block anything else foolish from escaping.
Ethan looked equally surprised by her words, his dark brows rising and his blue eyes shining mischievously. “Why, Miss Hart. That’s very forward of you. Don’t you think you should offer to buy me dinner first?”
“I…uh…”
He unzipped his jacket slowly, almost lazily, then shrugged it off each shoulder before letting it fall to the floor. His boots were next, kicked off to the side without him even bending over to untie them. When his fingers touched his belt buckle, her rational brain shouted, Make him stop! But the part of her mind that had started this whole show running countered, No, no, let him keep going. This is getting good.
Ethan seemed aware of her warring thoughts and paused with the belt in his hands, giving her a chance to stop him if that was what she wanted.
Sam swallowed hard and lifted her chin in a jerky movement, as if to say, What are you waiting for?
He undid the belt and tossed it onto the couch beside him.
“What next?” he asked, his voice low, more of a growl than she was used to from him. He was staying at a distance, but there was an energy coming off him that made her wonder what would happen if he got any closer. She, too, stayed back because she suspected Ethan had the gravitational pull of a planet, and once she was in his orbit, she would crash into him like a helpless meteor, all frenetic desire and compulsive heat.
What a lovely way to burn.
“Sh-shirt.”
The garment was off with such speed and fluidity she knew he’d made that same motion a thousand times before. Probably literally. The man could get his clothes off fast and still look good doing it. He didn’t have the cheesy gestures of a stripper—no hip thrusting or booty shaking—but he still made removing his clothing an art form of sorts.
“Pants,” she added, her voice calmer.
