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“You know I was,” he said, holding her gaze. “Because you were staring back.”
Fuck.
There was no response to that.
“Right,” she said. “Well, I’m going to…”
She started walking, and Matt fell into step next to her. Soon, it became apparent neither of them was headed for the exit, both walking in the direction of the elevator.
“You got a room here for tonight?” she asked.
“I did.”
“Hoping for a romantic interlude?”
Matt shook his head. “Hoping for sex.”
“Oh.” She’d walked into that one.
“You have a room?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Romantic interlude?” he threw back at her.
“Nope,” she replied with a cheeky grin, feeling far too punchy. She was in a reckless mood, which wasn’t a good thing, given the company she was keeping. “I was hoping to get fucked.”
She wasn’t sure why she’d thrown those words at him. Perhaps it was because part of her wondered if she could spark a reaction.
Sadly, she got nothing, and she felt the need to recover the upper hand. “So, I’m resorting to plan B.”
“What’s plan B?” he asked as the elevator doors slid open.
“A long soak in a hot bath.” And then, because she wasn’t finished playing yet, she added, “And self-care.”
She’d really thought that would at least earn her the smirk, but nope. Again. Nothing.
They stepped into the elevator. Matt pulled his key card out, tapping it over a screen she hadn’t noticed earlier today when she was dropping off her overnight bag in the room. Then he pressed the button to the top floor, and she realized he’d sprung for the penthouse suite.
She rolled her eyes at him, then reached out to press the button to the fourth floor, one with a much less impressive view of the city, no doubt.
Before she reached the button, however, Matt’s large hand flew out, grasping her wrist to stop her.
She tried to pull it back, but he didn’t release her.
Liza twisted toward him to call him out, but Matt was faster. Using his grip on her wrist, he dragged her to him, his lips descending on hers in a kiss that was urgent and hard and rough and…God…desperate.
And because all those words matched her needs, Liza didn’t waste a second thinking about the wisdom of this. She shook off his grasp on her wrist and lifted her arms to his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, pressing her breasts to his chest.
Matt’s hands slid along her back, those deadly-to-her-libido fingers tracing lines up and down her bare skin, the same way he had on the dance floor. She’d never been so affected by such a simple touch, but her panties had been damp ever since that dance.
Matt shifted the two of them as they continued to kiss, pressing her against the back wall of the elevator. She was vaguely aware it was rising, but everything vanished when Matt pushed her lips open, his tongue invading her mouth.
She stroked hers against his, tasting the Scotch on his breath. She wanted to get drunk on it. His fingers moved even lower, and he captured her gasp with his mouth as his hands gripped her ass, pulling her body tight to his, letting her feel exactly how much this kiss was impacting him.
Her legs parted as he thrust his large, strong thigh between hers, and she grated her pussy against it, wantonly, shamelessly.
They broke apart at the sound of a bell chiming, the elevator doors sliding open. Both of them were breathing so heavily, one might believe they’d just run a marathon.
