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Chapter Sixteen
Zoe cast a furtive look in Dale’s direction. They were nearly back at the hotel after a lovely dinner. He’d been quiet all evening and hadn’t spoken a word since they left the restaurant. He wouldn’t tell her what her mother had said to him, and she kept wondering if her mom had somehow upset him. It was never a good idea to let her mother speak to an eligible man alone, especially a man she’d decided one of her daughters wanted.
“I’m sorry about my mom. I love her dearly but whenever a man comes close to one of her daughters, she starts seeing wedding gowns and happy-ever-afters. Please just ignore her.”
Dale didn’t respond; he just took her hand in his and put it on his leg. Something changed in the air around them, and Zoe struggled to breathe.
“Dale?”
“I need to be with you, but you’re hurt,” he said gruffly and met her eyes for a second before he focused on the traffic again.
But that second was enough for her to see the want in his eyes, to feel the heat in his hand, to experience his need for her, to understand exactly what he meant. The car increased speed and, trying to keep up, so did her heartbeat.
She couldn’t speak. Desire raced through her body, heating her blood instantly, leaving her mouth dry.
Dale finally stopped, tires screeching, in front of the hotel. He got out quickly and moved around to her side while an usher raced forward to take his car keys. Someone opened her door, but she only had eyes for Dale.
He held out his hand and, feeling as if she were walking on clouds, she moved towards him.
Taking long strides, he walked towards the lift.
“Your room is closer,” was all he said.
Wordlessly, they stepped into the lift. Within seconds, after the doors closed, she was in his arms and he was kissing her. Who moved first wasn’t clear, but she was exactly where she wanted to be. His mouth fit so perfectly over hers, as if it had been made especially for his.
His touch was gentle, but she hungered for him and snaked her arms around his body, pulling him closer. With a groan, he hugged her gently and his hands moved eagerly up and down her back. She ignored the pain from the kick of the previous night; there was no way she was going to stop Dale from touching her.
The ping of the lift announced their arrival. Dale pulled back, blinked, and with dazed eyes, he grabbed her elbow. She giggled, his eyes flashed, and he quickly steered her towards her room. The corridor was empty, and while her trembling fingers tried to find the card to open her door, he lifted her hair and planted a kiss behind her ear.
“Found it,” she whispered anxiously and handed him the key. She wouldn’t be able to unlock the door. Her hands were shaking too badly.
*
Dale swiped thecard, pushed Zoe into the room, and kicked the door closed behind him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her pupils were dilated, her mouth wet from his kiss. He wanted his hands on her, wanted her body close to his, wanted to taste her, but, most of all, he wanted her.
He gathered her close and kissed her again, trying to rein in his wildly galloping libido. But her body curved instantly into his, her hands fisted in his hair, and he lost the struggle.
*
A low purringsound erupted from her throat and shot straight to his loins. A primitive need pounded through his blood; he had to get his hands on her. Greedily, his lips skimmed over her face, down her neck, and up again so he could have another taste of the small place behind her ear.
*
Zoe clung tohim as if she was trying to absorb every little thing about this moment—the sound of their laboured breathing, the heat of his hands skimming her sides, the feel of his body against hers.
He lifted her so both her legs wrapped around his body. His lips had found hers again, and without lifting his head, he staggered forward until he gently set her on her feet next to the bed.
His eyes were dark, his face taut. “I have to touch you,” he said huskily, “but I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m fine,” she said and lifted her top over her head. She unhooked her short skirt and it fell silently to the ground.
Without saying anything, she turned around. On the opposite wall, a mirror reflected the two of them.
He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of her. He skimmed his fingers against her back as he unhooked the clasp of her bra, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. Silently her bra fell to the ground.
He stepped closer and cupped her breasts from behind.
“Look how beautiful you are,” he whispered in her ear and she looked up. It was such a sensual picture—she nearly naked, her breasts covered with his hands.
