by Zoe Chant
Back to work.
She needed at least one clear shot of Haskell with Patrice, and from the sound of it, Patrice was on her way out. So Mindy hurried into her dress, pulled on her sandals, and snatched up her purse. She walked as quickly as she could to the stair exit, tying her hair up as she did. She made it to the entry to the suite, at the end of a short, discreet corridor, with seconds to spare—from behind the big double doors came Patrice’s shrill tones clashing with Haskell’s snarl.
Mindy nipped her cell out of her purse, heart banging against her ribs. She tapped the camera app—made certain the flash was off—and held the phone up to her ear a second before the suite door opened. She began gabbling as if talking to someone and turned her head sideways, finger pressing hard on the camera button in hopes that one shot could capture the man and woman emerging.
At the sight of Mindy both Patrice and Haskell shut up. And in the sudden silence, the click of the camera was faintly audible.
Oh God oh God oh God—
Someone rounded the corner and stepped into the hall outside the suite.
It was Red Hot.
“Hey,” Haskell began, glowering at Mindy. “Who are you—”
There was only one thing to do. “Darling! There you are,” Mindy cried, turning her back on Haskell, and threw herself into Red Hot’s arms.
“Huh?” he said, then nothing more because Mindy, still clutching her phone, reached up (whoa, he was tall, and he smelled so incredible), laced her fingers behind his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss.
She meant to freeze there until Haskell was safely past, then apologize and pretend that she was drunk and had mistaken him for someone else. But the surprised hand that gripped her shoulder her drifted down her back, heating her skin to a tingle. The hard thing that pressed inside her hip—That was not his cane!—shifted into the hollow between her thighs as the lips mashed against hers opened.
And her lips opened.
And every cell in her body shot straight into the sun.
* * *
Two seconds after Dennis entered the hall leading to Haskell’s suite, an armful of woman landed softly against him. “Darling!” she said.
It was her! Fragrant, curly chocolate-colored hair brushed his chest as she cooed, “There you are!” and the next thing he knew, the hottest, sexiest pair of lips in the history of the universe short-circuited his brain.
He was vaguely aware of Haskell blabbing something, but he was too busy exploring the softest, sweetest, loveliest mouth he had ever kissed, tongues teasing and dueling—hot, shaky breath mingling.
Somehow the key card he’d been carrying fumbled the door open, and somehow he tossed the card this way and his cane that way and she did something magical with those killer hips of hers, and he fitted up and tight right where it counted.
His brain was still back out there going WTF? But his body had already tabled that discussion as one heel kicked the door shut behind him. Thump, thump, her cell phone and purse fell to the carpet to join his key card and cane.
He took a step backward toward the bed, nearly stumbled, then caught himself as she fell against him. His arms filled with deliciously curvy woman, smelling of some kind of perfume that drove him wild.
Not the man to question miracles, he bent, closed his hands under her hips, and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him, her sandals thumping to the floor as those amazing hips of hers did something that made his dick jump painfully in pants suddenly fifty sizes too small.
The backs of his knees found the bed, and they fell, with her landing on top of him.
When they broke for breath, a single brain cell wandered back and he gasped, “Who are you?”
“Call me . . . Payton,” she muttered into his lips.
What was she doing here? Besides driving him batshit wild.
He closed his hands over the silky smooth skin of her shoulders and forced a little distance between them, though he was nearly drowning in those big brown eyes the color of dark amber. “Do I . . . know you?” he said stupidly, trying hard to claw his way back to sanity.
“Who cares?” she said breathlessly.
“Right.” The preliminaries over, he pulled her in for another kiss.
It was even hotter than the first.
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