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Just before we reach the turnoff to go back to our seats, his hand wraps around my arm. “Want to get out of here?” he asks, leaning over so only I can hear him. With zero hesitation, my eyes find his, and I nod yes. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from him.
“I think we’re gonna head out,” I announce to our friends.
Ash, Avery, and Cora all turn to look at us. Cora smirks knowingly, but Ash and Avery just stare at us confused. Actually, Ash and Clay communicate silently with each other, and eventually Ash nods.
“Let’s go, ladies,” he says, and the three of them leave us standing there, Avery tossing one more glance at us over her shoulder.
Clay takes my hand as he and I make our way to the door. If people were wanting to say something to him, we don’t give them an opportunity. We are on a mission, and the second we walk outside, an attendant waves down a taxi from the awaiting taxi line. I’ve never been more thankful for a quick getaway car. Without releasing each other’s hand, we slide into the back seat, and we’re off.
“Four Seasons,” Clay tells the driver, but to me he says nothing. He doesn’t take off his hat, but as he’s angled toward me, he’s got my hand on his thigh where his thumb is caressing back and forth, and his eyes have shifted from dark to smoldering.
Never mind—I am so wrong. He may not be using words, but he is definitely speaking to me, and I am agreeing with everything he is saying.
Eight minutes later, a valet opens our door. We’re inside the hotel, we’re riding the elevator up, and then he’s swiping the key card to his room. The door hasn’t even closed behind us before he is on me. His mouth is like a dream come true as it slams down on mine and then wholly consumes me. This kiss isn’t like New Year’s Eve or at the studio, and I wouldn’t even say it’s like that first Thanksgiving weekend. This kiss is desperate and famished.
“Emma,” he mumbles into my mouth as his hat falls to the floor.
I pull back and look at him. His cheeks are still red, his lips are damp, and his eyes are so rich; the longing for him swirls hard in the bottom of my stomach and my core.
“This isn’t going to be sweet and slow. I can’t,” he says as if it pains him.
“I didn’t ask for it to be.” I run my hands up his chest and past his shoulders to get to his hair.
“But I p-promise I’ll make it up to you,” he says as my fingers tangle themselves in his blond locks.
His hand pulls on the bottom edge of my dress, and the next thing I know it’s around my waist and his hand is between my legs. His forehead falls to mine and he lets out an anguished groan as he finds me warm and wet for him.
“Do you have any idea how badly I want you?” he says, his voice rough with need.
“I might have some idea.” I pull on his jacket so he’ll take it off.
“All the time. All the fucking time,” he grumbles.
“Then why don’t you show me.”
Using that as his green light, he shrugs his jacket off, reaches around, finds the zipper to undo my dress, and then pulls it up right over my head. He drops it to the floor, and his large warm hands run down my back, over my butt, where he palms me hard and pulls me into him. The buckle to his belt bites into my stomach, so I quickly undo it, yanking it free, and it lands on my dress. Then he picks me up, my legs clamp around his waist, and he takes me straight to the middle of the bed where he bends over so I drop onto my back and he’s hovering above me.
“So beautiful,” he whispers as his lips brush against my collarbone and then travel down.
When I arch my back, his hand slides underneath to undo the clasp of my strapless bra. It’s tossed aside, and his mouth latches on and sucks almost my whole breast into his mouth while one of his hands wraps around the other. I’ve always frowned upon my overall small size, but with the way his lips and tongue are worshiping me, I think I’ve changed my mind and can’t help how I push into him, wanting more, while grasping his hair.
“I always love the way you smell,” he says as he drags his mouth lower and gently bites the skin at my waist. “The way you taste.” His hands slide down my ribcage to my hips, where they grasp the edges of my underwear, and he pulls them off. “Everywhere,” he mutters, pulling my hips to the edge of the bed and pushing my legs wide before his mouth covers me.
Oh my.
I’m not prepared for the onslaught of sensations as they compete with each other. My heart is racing, my whole body begins to shake, his mouth is so warm, and with what he’s doing with his tongue and his fingers, this isn’t going to take long at all.
“Clay,” I whisper, and his eyes look up to find mine over the length of me. Emotion streaks straight to my soul and burning liquid fire races through my veins. I want this man in a way I never have with anything in my life. As I grip the sheets, his eyes study my physical reactions, and I know he’s memorizing each and every sound I make. His mouth continues to move in a way that has my whole body flushing, and his fingers curl until I can’t take it anymore and slam my eyes shut. White light bursts behind my eyelids, and I try to catch my breath. I can’t help but think we’ve hardly been in this room ten minutes, and if this is a precursor to how the night is going to go, I just might die.
As he pulls away from me, I pry my eyes open to find him still standing between my legs, but he’s very slowly taking his clothes off. At least it seems slow as he undoes one torturous button at a time, revealing his golden skin that shouldn’t be so tan considering winter just ended and spring has only just begun.
“It’s like my own personal strip show,” I tell him as I prop myself up on my elbows and watch.
He huffs but discards his shirt, pulls off his socks, and then with one more button and the slide of his zipper, hooks his thumbs under the edge of his briefs and slides both down his long muscular legs. I’m rewarded with the most perfect man ever made, a man I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to this point with again but desperately hoped to. Emotion clogs my throat as we continue to stare at each other, his resolve slipping as he wraps his hand around himself and squeezes.
“Are you still seeing him?” he asks.
I know he’s talking about Justin, and my heart aches at the thought that he still feels he needs to ask that question. I shake my head, and he exhales like he was holding his breath waiting for my answer.
