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This section of the glass roof looks straight down to the pool. Eric lifts his gun, and when I realize what his plan is, my mouth drops open. “Please tell me you’re not about to do what I think you’re going to do.”
Eric’s mouth edges up as he balances his knees against the glass, leans back and slams a fresh magazine into his gun. “Okay, I won’t. Cover your face.” He aims the gun at the glass panel and I shield my head with my arm as he fires.
It instantly shatters beneath us and our combined weight is far too heavy for the compromised glass to hold. The glass panel cracks, breaking into a million, quickly moving spider webs. I brace myself for the inevitable fall and the moment the glass breaks, I screech and my arms flail as we drop three floors in a shower of shards. Somehow, I manage to hit the chlorinated water feet first and I briefly sink down into the depths of the deep end. Kicking my way to the surface, my head pops up and I look over to see Eric treading water beside me.
“C’mon,” he says and starts swimming to the side.
I immediately start kicking and paddling as fast as my limbs can move. Eric pulls himself out of the pool and then reaches down and lifts me up. We hurry back through the restaurant, skirting around tables, past the broken chandelier, and Eric turns the lock on the main entrance’s door.
We hightail it over to the stairs, avoiding the elevator, and start down.
“Where are they?” I ask, breathing hard, dripping water, trying to keep up with Eric’s long-legged stride.
“I don’t know. Don’t wanna find out either.”
We continue down and Eric abruptly stops at the door to the fifth floor. He slicks his wet hair back with both hands and eyes me closely. “Are you alright?”
I nod. “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling like a total fool. The words sound completely inadequate, but I don’t know what else to say. I wrap my arms tightly around myself and wait for his reaction. Dreading the idea that he’s going to write me off as a stupid woman when all I was trying to do is protect him and Kennedy. They’re the only two people in my life who I care about and would do anything to keep safe.
Tears burn my eyes and Eric reaches out and lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his searching gaze.
“What were you thinking?” he asks softly. There’s no censure in his tone, only concern, and my chest tightens.
“They texted me and said if I told anyone—” My voice breaks. “I couldn’t let them hurt you or Kennedy. They had a gun trained on you.” Biting my lip hard, I try to force the tears back. “I didn’t mean to make such a mess of things.”
“Everything is okay,” he assures me, taking my hand and pushing the metal bar on the door. “We’re going to hang out here for a while. They might be waiting for us down in the lobby or even outside.”
“That’s a good idea,” I murmur, a shiver moving through my body. I’m cold, wet and dripping all over the carpet.
“Check-out is normally by eleven and check-in usually isn’t until four. We’ll borrow a room for a little bit.” As we’re passing by a housekeeping trolley, he smoothly palms a keycard. “These rooms down here are probably already cleaned, but let’s take a look.”
We stop in front of a door a little further up the hall and he opens it. A quick glance tells us it was already cleaned. “Be right back,” he murmurs and quickly returns the card to the housekeeper’s cart before anyone is the wiser.
Stepping inside, I look around and Eric shuts the door behind us, pulling the security latch closed. The air conditioner kicks on and I drop my phone and the SD card on the table. The chilly air and our close call with death are making me shake uncontrollably, and I wrap my arms around myself.
Looking up, I notice Eric is staring at me with an unreadable expression.
“You should take those wet clothes off,” he says huskily, shrugging his soaked leather jacket off and tossing it over a chair.
My gaze slides down the white t-shirt plastered to his muscled chest and the drenched denim clinging to his large thighs. Warmth spreads through my limbs at the memory of being up close and personal with Eric’s incredible body.
We both pull our shirts off at the same time and all my fear from earlier turns to lust. A low, dull throbbing begins to pulse between my thighs and all I want is to be in Eric’s arms. His gaze dips, drawn to my pebbled nipples visible through my white bra.
“Ivy, if I had lost you…” A muscle flexes in his jaw and he doesn’t finish the sentence. But I can see the stormy anguish that flashes across his face.
“It’s my fault. I didn’t want to get you involved. Dammit, I thought I was protecting you, but we both nearly di—”
“Don’t even say it,” he interrupts in a gruff voice. Then he yanks me against him and slams his mouth down, covering mine in a kiss that makes my world tilt. It’s demanding and rough on both sides, as though we need to make sure we’re still alive. Still breathing.
And, oh yeah, he’s very much alive. I can feel the hard evidence straining against my stomach. He grinds his hips against me, making me aware of how much he wants me. After the wild kiss ends, we pull apart, panting hard.
We’re both still half-dressed and I want him to rip my jeans off, but he hesitates, holding back. I can tell he’s waiting for me to give the go-ahead. So I reach for the button on his jeans and undo it. He gives me a heavy-lidded look, watching as I tug the zipper down and then slide my hand down inside the front of his boxer briefs.
Wrapping my fingers around his rock-hard length, I lightly squeeze, feeling him grow and harden even more.
“Ivy,” he hisses, thrusting in my hand. His tone holds a warning and another shiver runs through me, but it has nothing to do with the air conditioner rattling nearby and everything to do with the big, powerful man now at my mercy.
After several strokes, I pull my hand back and attempt to shove his pants down. But the wet denim is difficult to manage so he helps me, then kicks the jeans aside. He works my jeans and panties down while I unclasp my bra and let it slide down my arms. Taking it from me, he tosses it on the bed and pulls me against his strong, hard body.
