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So was I.
Inside, the doorman eyed me as I drifted in. I wasn’t staggering so he could fuck right off. The concierge nodded to me. “Mr. Graham.”
Look, someone knew how to do their job. He buzzed the elevator for me and I stepped inside. I had a keycard and it let me ride up to the penthouse level.
It wasn’t until I knocked on the door that I considered my choice. I braced a hand on the doorframe. Maybe I should have called.
If I had, she could have said no.
Then she opened the door and blinked up at me.
“Ezra…”
“Lainey,” I said, stepping right into her and cupping her face. I swooped my head down to seal my lips to hers and she tasted better than any alcohol. Her gasp opened her mouth to me and I feasted.
So much better than a phone call.
ChapterFourteen
LAINEY
The pound on the door pulled my attention from the text message Pretty Boy sent. He wouldn’t be back tonight. He had a lead he wanted to follow and he would fill me in later. It was—disappointing, but he had his work and I had mine. Still…
The fist hitting the door was so insistent, I checked the security camera first. The desk hadn’t called up and only a handful of people had access to this floor without concierge assistance.
Ezra.
Dressed in a suit and tie, with the tie loose and his hair disheveled, he braced a hand on the doorframe like he needed it to keep himself upright. Worry spread through me as I entered the code to turn off the alarm, then I opened the door.
“Ezra…”
The burn in his green eyes slammed into me. “Lainey…” He practically exhaled my name like it was the only thing keeping him upright. He seemed to launch off the door and collapse into and around me.
Warm hands cupped my face and then his mouth was on mine. He tasted of warm brandy and sugar. The sweetness and alcohol flooded my senses. The teasing strokes of his tongue were like rapier thrusts shredding my protests.
“Lainey,” he repeated, barely breaking the kiss long enough to let me take a breath before he kissed me again. The sensuous invasion consumed every bit of my attention.
I pressed my hands to his chest. Shove him away? Drag him closer?
“Lainey,” he said once more, like a prayer, a reverence. He stroked his thumbs against my cheek, staring down at me. “Let me in?”
Let him…
I wanted to groan and my hesitation sent darkness rippling through his eyes. “Is that bastard here?”
“Don’t start. He’s not a bastard,” I told him firmly. “No, he’s not here. So stop it.”
The swiftness of his relief almost made me regret admitting it. Then he pressed a kiss to my cheek, almost an apology and then nuzzled another along my jaw. “Let me in, Lainey…”
“You’re drunk,” I muttered. What I should have done was call a car for him and sent him on his way. But Ezra had two modes when he’d been drinking. One was cuddly and sweet, the other was a downright bastard.
I really wasn’t in the mood for bastard.
“Not that drunk,” he whispered, then pressed a kiss to my throat. “I promise. I had a full meal and everything.”
Fisting his shirt, I closed my eyes momentarily and flattened out my hands. It took a moment to disentangle myself. Ezra’s expression was so crestfallen, it hurt. “C’mon,” I told him, holding out my hand. “I’ll make you some coffee.”
Probably better to sober him up before I sent him on his way. He clasped my hand and followed me inside. While he locked the door, I went ahead and re-engaged the alarm.
