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The fact I’ve had a lot of champagne hinders my already waning judgement on what to do about it.
Nothing, idiot!
YOU DON’T NEED TO DO ANYTHING!
At least one part of my brain is working.
Lukas insists on walking us to our floor, like the good Samaritan he is. Even in the elevator, I can’t help but feel his heady presence next to me, tantalizing me, making me think illicit thoughts that I know I shouldn’t.
When we get to the door of our suite, the girls thank him profusely for dinner and the champagne we all consumed, and he kisses them on the cheek goodnight.
They discreetly go inside as his attention turns to me.
“Alone at last,” he muses.
My skin prickles.
I can’t help but smirk. “It’s been a really great night. Thank you for spending it with me on my birthday,” I say, as he lingers in front of my doorway. “The food was lovely.”
“Thank you for making it far more interesting than I probably deserve. Your friends care a lot about you, they’re very… sweet.”
I laugh. “Yes, Imogen is. Charlize, on the other hand…”
“She’d make a great CEO,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.
I get that tingle up my spine again.
“She would, amongst other things, but mostly, I usually want to staple things to her head. She has no filter.”
He laughs. “I figured that.” He shuffles his feet and adds, “Well, goodnight, Ariana. I’m glad you had a nice evening and that you shared it with me.”
He moves toward me, and I feel his bristle on either side of my cheeks as he kisses them softly. I don’t know what possesses me, but my hands reach up to his jacket, and I hold onto the lapels as he goes to pull away.
He glances down at my hands. “Ariana,” he whispers, “what are you doi…”
I don’t know who’s taken control of my mind, and how my bodily functions disobey too, but I reach up and kiss him, needing to feel his lips on mine, even though it is so very, very wrong and a part of my brain screamsno!just as I do it.
I’ve never kissed a man with a beard before, and I’m delighted that it’s surprisingly soft and so very sexy.
It’s when he kisses me back, after a moment of hesitation, and—let’s face it—surprise, that things kick up about several hundred notches.
His hand comes to my jaw, where he holds me firmly, his other hand skating to my hip, and all of a sudden, our lips are locked. A small mewl leaves my throat as I feel his tongue gently probing as he seeks permission into my mouth.
I flatten my hands on his chest as he moves me to the door, pressing me up against it. In return, our bodies mold together,and I feel his erection digging into me as my heart rate kicks up like a runaway freight train.
Holy fucking Jesus.
And it goes on for several, wonderful, delightful seconds.
I’m also fully and acutely aware of his hand making its way up my body from my hip, past my stomach, as it skates my breast when he cups the other side of my face. Our kiss heightens, and I feel the urgent need for friction between my legs.
All too soon, he breaks away, pulling back, panting as much as I am, and it’s as though he shakes himself out of the situation as he steps back. His eyes cloudy, but if I’m not mistaken, full of lust.
Oh yeah, he’s fucking into it, the dirty bastard.
I secretly like that I’ve done this to his composure. Something dark inside of me likes the fact I’ve gotten him this turned on.
“Ariana…”
