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She drank the whiskey I fetched her in one go while I slowly took a few steps toward her. I overlapped her hand in which she was holding the glass with mine, and our eyes locked. I gently took the drink away from her and set it aside on the glass table behind us. I tilted her chin with my fingers, and my gaze dropped down to her slightly parted mouth. I couldn’t fight the urge and brushed my thumb over her soft lower lip, and I noticed her body was shivering. Fuck, she was so gorgeous. Was it wrong of me that at this moment, all I wanted to do was rip off her silky dress, lingering against her sultry body, and fuck her against the wall behind her, so hard that all the hotel guests would hear her screaming out my name in pleasure?
“Melanie…” I whispered, leaning in with every intent to taste her luscious lips.
“Wait!” She stepped back. “How the hell do you know my name?”
Fuck!
She never told me her name. I knew I couldn’t afford such rookie mistakes. It could ruin everything. And the last thing I’d want was to ruin anything. Especially at the very fucking beginning of my task. It was just those tempting lips of hers, begging me to lick, suck, bite them, or all at once for that matter, that kept distracting the hell out of me.
“You’ve mentioned your name.” I kept my cool.
“No, I haven’t,” she objected, staring intensely at me.
I sneered and turned to sip my whiskey. “Well, maybe a cold shower would help. The toilet’s on the left.” I was trying to throw her off the scent.
“Excuse me?” I hadn’t been facing her, but her petulant voice gave away that she was nettled.
I turned to look into her eyes. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
She bit her lower lip and shifted her eyes to the side, clearly stunned. Apparently, that was what she did when she was anxious—bit her lips. And for some fucked-up reason, it turned me on. She seemed confused, deep in thought, like she was trying to replay the last hour we’d spent together to dispel her doubts.
“Anyway, you might want to wash off your…” I paused, examining her smeared makeup, trying to find the right words to name it.
“Yeah, I could use the toilet,” she said sheepishly. “It’s about time I make myself look civilized again.”
I sipped my whiskey, satisfied that I’d managed to disorientate her enough to drop the“name” topic. It was easy, but her mind was troubled with some other stuff that night. I was aware of it, and I knew I’d have to be more careful.
“Make yourself at home,” I said, gazing straight into her timid eyes.
She turned with no word, and I watched how effortlessly she swayed her hips as she headed toward the restroom. Damn, her ass. Her sexy, round butt was driving me insane. I imagined ripping off that fucking dress covering her body of a goddess from my sight and fucking her senselessly.
Yes, I’ve got a dirty mind.
I SCROLLED THROUGH dozens of the emails I’d gotten during my flight concerning some business shit when Melanie came back and instantly caught my attention. She washed off her face and obviously didn’t use any cosmetic products or whatever the hell they’re called, so she had no makeup. She pulled her hair up in a high bun, revealing her baby-doll-like face. She was so fucking naturally gorgeous. Sure as fuck, it would’ve been way easier for me to follow my plan if she wasn’t such a goddess. It was distracting as fuck. Especially that she had that angelic kind of beauty. She had those luminous, big eyes many would die for. Or her slim, long fingers she bashfully played with every time she was uneasy. Don’t even make me start on her sultry body that made her look so fragile and innocent and at the same time hotter than hell. Melanie Atwood was a mix of everything any man could ever dream of.
“I should go home,” she whispered. Her voice was so quiet it felt like she was afraid the words would hurt if she said them loud enough.
“You can stay here if you want,” I instantly second-guessed what I’d just said. Melanie’s dark eyes grew wide as she glanced at me, astonished, probably questioning my nonsensical offer as well.
“Believe me, I’d love that, but—” she said, her suddenly gloomy gaze dropped down to her fingers she still nervously played with. I wondered what she meant by that? I thought she led an ivory tower life, considering she was a billionaire, influential daddy’s only little girl.
“But your father would be worried,” I said assumingly, trying to pick up track of what was going on in her life. I hoped she’d take off the lid once I hit the right spot.
“I bet!”she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, could you order me an Uber or something? I had to leave my phone at my friend’s place.”
“I’ll drive you home myself.” Words just blurted out of my mouth.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
She tilted slightly to the side, frowning, scanning my face with her eyes.
“Making sure you get there safe and sound,” I added with a teasing tone, trying to play it out. “How else will I be sure I don’t hear about the girl who jumped in front of a speeding car in tomorrow’s news?”
“Oh, screw you!” She sneered, her handon her hip.
Yeah, screw me
