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“Today was a travel day. Work starts tomorrow. That’s common in business, I’m sure.”
“It can be,” Cleo said, nibbling on her lip and trying to accept his line of thinking. “I guess we can hit it hard tomorrow with fresh eyes.”
“We can,” Nick said, sliding the card into the door lock. As it clicked and beeped, he pressed the handle open but kept the door mostly closed. He was waiting. He’d keep waiting. Hoping she’d come in. “So that gives us a little while before we’d have to try to get some formal clothes for tonight.”
She checked her watch. “Maybe like an hour,” she said, her cheeks blazing with something he couldn’t name. Nerves? Desire?
“Do you want to come in and find a way to use that hour?”
“I shouldn’t. All these mixed emotions keep screwing with me.”
“Maybe we could watch some reruns of a sitcom and have a nap?”
“Hmm,” she hummed out, pretending to think it over. “I was considering something a bit more exciting. Something that might get our heart rates up.”
“Oh, some pushups, maybe?” He reached over and took her hand. “I think I can get your heart racing if you want to come in.”
“Aren’t you worried?” she asked, and suddenly he was, though he didn’t know what she was implying.
“About what?”
“What if the last time was a fluke? Just supercharged from so much built-up anticipation. Maybe this won’t measure up. What if it’s a letdown?”
He laughed. “I’m not worried about that at all. That wasn’t even my best work. There was hardly any room in that car.”
“So you think it’ll be even better?”
“I know it will be.”
“Hmm,” she hummed again. “Want to bet?”
“Winner picks the outfits for tonight.” Nick watched her face wash with laughter and worry.
“That’s a very dangerous bet. I don’t know if I can trust your fashion sense.”
“Scared?” He waggled his brows at her playfully.
“Terrified,” she replied, and he knew there were layers to that answer. She was afraid to see what kind of clothes he might pick out for her. Scared to enjoy herself too much with him. Worried about failing at the task at hand.
“Only one way to find out who is right,” he said, licking his lips. “You in?” He let go of her hand and turned his instead for a shake to seal the deal.
“It’s a bet,” she said, shaking his hand firmly and giggling as he pulled her inside his room and threw their bags on the ground.
The door hadn’t even banged closed before their lips collided. It had been the truth. He wasn’t worried at all about outdoing their last time together. He’d been thinking about every curve every time she’d drew in a sharp breath or her legs shook with pleasure. There was a road map there, and he had a magical sense of direction.
“Clown suit?” she asked, pulling her lips back for a second.
“You mean for right now? Or tonight? I don’t want to turn down any role-playing you might like. Your kink is welcome here. I can definitely see you as a sexy clown. I’ll honk that nose.”
Cleo rolled her eyes and yanked his shirt over his head to quiet him. His hands roamed to her jeans, and he muscled the button loose, yanking them down. Pressing her back against the closest wall, he snagged a handful of her hair and tugged her head back.
Her primal groan of pleasure assured him she loved his grip on her to be tight. Strong. Unrelenting. He closed his other hand around her hip and ground his hard excitement into the sweet spot between her legs.
Gripping his shoulders, she wrapped her now bare legs around his waist. He tugged on her hair again, and she whispered her breathy approval.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”
He followed the nape of her neck and showered it in passionate kisses as his hips drove at a rhythm that had her panting with pleasure. He’d barely started. His pants were still on. The lace of her panties hadn’t even been moved aside or torn away, yet she already sounded prepared to burst with pleasure.
