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He looks over his shoulder at the clerk and then back at me. “What about another hotel?” He waves his phone. “I can help find one.”
I nearly sigh. Gorgeous and kind. I give myself a mental shake. I. Am. Not. Interested.
I hold up a hand. “I’m good thanks. It was nice meeting you, Owen.” I start to walk down the hallway.
“Hold up.”
Owen jogs to me, standing in front of the hotel door, just as three more people file in. We step to the side, and he runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Listen, you shared your table with me. The least I can do is give you the hotel room.”
“I’m not taking your room.” As much as the thought of being able to soak in the tub and flip through some channels while I figure out this flight mess appeals, I’d never be able to take someone’s hotel room.
“I feel really bad,” he says.
“Look, it’s not a big deal, I promise. I should probably check to see what I do with my luggage anyway.” My shoulders droop inadvertently, but I see his eyes narrow.
“You’re tired.”
I am but it’s not his problem. “I’m fine, I promise.” I start to take a couple of steps, but he tugs on the strap of my bag.
“What if we shared?” His deep voice is quiet.
My brain tripped. Parts of my body that were previously cold suddenly flared into heat. “Shared what?”
He holds up the card key. “The room.”
Before I can say anything, he crosses his arms. “Hear me out. You shared your table with me, and I can tell a lot about people over a single beer. It’s basically just a place to stretch out and rebook our tickets and maybe catch a nap before we get out of here tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to share your room.”
“What if I want to?” His voice is gravelly, and he meets my gaze directly. The invitation in his voice is unmistakable and heat swirls between my thighs. “But I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. The offer stands regardless.”
How could I not want to? A night of no-strings attached with this gorgeous man who doesn’t know Savannah Hale is my sister and I have no idea what his last name is or what he does.
I step a little closer, liking the way my body responds to his, liking the flirty anticipation that’s building between us. “Your offer is pretty tempting. I’m dying to get these boots off.” What if this is what I need to get my mojo back? I’m not looking for this to go anywhere and there’s zero expectations about what this means. He’s not making any promises or grand gestures to get my attention.
His gaze flicks down my body and his cheeks go ruddy. “Could I tempt you to leave them on?”
Maybe it’s because it’s been a hell of a day. Maybe it’s because he has to be one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met – and being around my sister, I meet a lot of great-looking guys – but that’s different from attraction, the magnetic pull, the desire to touch and smile and flirt. Maybe it’s just because I want to. I don’t want to analyze it. I just want to feel good.
“Maybe.”
3
Owen
Ireach out and take her bag, tilting my head in the direction of the elevators. We’re walking together, my arm brushing hers and it feels good. I’m a professional athlete, hockey at that, a spontaneous hook-up is nothing new, but something about this feels different. Maybe it’s the fact that she doesn’t know who I am. She’s not some puck bunny breathless at the thought of me pounding her into the mattress. Instead, it’s me who’s nearly breathless at the thought of peeling off her clothes and pushing her against a wall while I run my hands through her silky auburn hair, down to the sweet curves of her plush ass. The thought of doing it while she stands in front of me in nothing but those sexy boots has me hard as steel.
In the elevator, she’s standing in front of me, and I reach around her to press the button to our floor. I don’t step all the way back after, instead enjoying the torture of her coat brushing against the front of my jeans. I smile when she moves back slightly, bringing her ass into contact with my aching cock. I want to pull her into my arms and grind against her, bury my face in her neck and feel her shiver as I breathe in the warm scent of her perfume.
I nudge her when the elevator opens and tell her the room number. When we get to the door, she pauses and I’m afraid for a second she’s going to change her mind. I step back, giving her space and hold out the key card.
She understands my unspoken message. We can just leave it here, no hurt feelings, no pressure. She licks her lips and takes the card. “My feet are killing me.”
I can’t resist a single second more and as soon as the light flashes green and we’re through the door, I drop the bags and sweep her into my arms, shifting my weight to account for my injury. “Let’s get you off them, then.”
She laughs, a sound of pure surprise escaping her as I carry her into the room. I let her body slide against mine, keeping most of her weight in my arms in case her feet really are killing her, and I look down. “Are you with me? Because if all you really want here is a foot massage and decent wi-fi, that’s okay too.”
Serena’s head tilts up. “Change your mind, Owen?”
