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He nipped at my bottom lip. “And then I want to know how you sound when you come all around me.” His eyes seared into mine. “And you will.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, and it was all I could do not to shove him against a wall and try all those things right there in the hallway.
“I ...” I swallowed, my throat on fire and my skin squeezing against my bones until I wasn’t sure I could keep standing.
“I like this role reversal,” he whispered against my lips. “How long do you think I can keep you speechless?”
I gripped his hand and started marching toward the elevator. His legs were so long that I was in charge for only a moment. We stayed quiet while the doors slid open, and it was blessedly empty.
When the elevator closed on a whisper, Burke punched the button for his floor, then turned, caging me against the wall. When he gripped my leg, wrenching my thigh up against his side, I gasped.
He mouthed the side of my throat, sucking hard against the top of my collarbone.
I tugged him back up, sighing into a fierce kiss that stole my breath. Burke didn’t attempt to gentle his mouth when the car slowed upon arrival at his floor. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, releasing it with a filthy pop.
“Please tell me your room is close,” I murmured. His fingers gripped tightly onto my thigh, still wedged against his side.
All it would take was an unbuckled belt, the drop of a zipper, a yank of my pants, and he’d be inside me.
I was crazed enough, pressed against that elevator wall by his big, strong body, that I might have allowed it.
Someone cleared their throat sharply, and we broke apart.
A man in his late fifties gave us a stern look, settling his hand on the door so it stayed open.
Burke gripped my hand tight in his and gave me a sly smirk as we exited the elevator.
“Oh my gosh,” I moaned.
He laughed under his breath, pausing outside a door just a few down from the elevator.
The sound of his laughter helped soothe some of my nerves. He didn’t laugh often, and maybe that was why it felt like such a precious thing when it happened.
The wide expanse of his back felt like a perfect place to press my forehead, and I wrapped my arms around his waist while he slid the key in the lock. The door opened with a click, but for a moment, we just stood there in the darkened hallway. He settled one big hand over mine, inhaled slowly, and then plucked my hand from the hard heat of his stomach so he could intertwine our fingers while he walked us into his hotel room.
The door closed behind us, and Burke turned, eyes inscrutable and fathomless in the dimly lit room. The tips of his fingers were light as he traced the line of my upper arm, over my shoulder, playing with the hem of the jersey.
“This looks good on you,” he whispered. Then he grabbed the bottom of the shirt and tugged it up over my head.
He licked his bottom lip, a filthy tease of that tongue, and I shivered.
My hands coasted up the front of his chest, and I gently started jerking at his shirt. He tilted his chin, allowing me free rein to undress him, helpful man that he was. His hands rested lightly along my rib cage, thumbs skirting the outside curves of my bra.
I wanted skin on skin.
Burke slid his fingers into the curling ends of my braid, a contented hum coming from deep within his chest. “You probably don’t want me to ruin all this, do you?”
My lips quirked. “I think if you don’t, I’ll be very”—I kissed his bottom lip—“very disappointed.” I kissed his top lip, pulling away only when he tore his shirt all the way off. While we kissed, I ran greedy hands over his chest.
The breath sawed through his lungs, loud in the quiet room as my hands traced all the muscles covering his strong frame. He found the zipper on my jeans and tugged it down, shoving his hands down my waistband, filling his fingers with the flesh of my backside.
While he kneaded the skin there, I pried at the clasp of my bra.
Burke rolled his forehead against mine. He pulled at the straps slowly, so very slowly, each inch of skin that appeared causing a slight tremble all over his body.
“Charlotte,” he whispered. I stepped back, toeing off my shoes and pushing the jeans off my legs. I was left in only white lace underwear, cut high on my hips.
Burke was trying to decide where to touch first, and he used the backs of his fingers to brush against the tight buds of my nipples.
