by Amy Lamont
I nodded and once again found myself fascinated by the buttons on his shirt, unable to raise my head to meet his gaze.
“Hey.” He shook my gently. “Look at me.”
I dug deep to find some courage and managed to raise my eyes to his.
“You’re overthinking this.” He ran a hand soothingly down my back. “And I’m starting to see why your friends thought you needed to shake things up. I get the feeling you spend a lot of time living in your own beautiful head.”
I nodded. “I guess you could say that.”
“You know some people would say that sex is a great way to get out of your head and enjoy the moment,” he teased.
I couldn’t help but smile up at him. As my gaze raked his face, I got the sense he wasn’t given to teasing and light conversations very often. Something about the way he looked earlier striding across the lobby, all pent up power and restrained energy. Even now, with a smile playing across his lips, there was something moving behind his eyes waiting to be unleashed.
My mouth went dry and the grin slipped from my face. His teasing words repeated themselves in my mind and the truth of them struck me, leaving me breathless and wondering if I could do it. If this man holding me could help me get out of my head, and just this once let go and enjoy the moment, without having to pick apart and analyze everything.
“What is it, sweetheart?” His smile faded and he searched my face. “I was only teasing.”
I nodded. “I know. But you’re right. I do live in my head. It would be so nice if just once…”
I bit my lip, struggling to finish my sentence. If I said the words that wanted to burst from me—that I wanted to be with him, that I wanted him to make me feel things I haven’t ever felt without having to think about the consequences—I couldn’t take them back. I couldn’t tell him yes and then run away. Not again.
Was I ready to say those words and to really allow him to take me to his room upstairs?
As usual, my brain went into overdrive, searching for the right answer, picking apart every thought. I wanted to be with this man more than I wanted my next breath. But I was afraid.
“Excuse us.” A young man slid past us, pulling a pretty blonde woman behind him to get to the seats in front of the fireplace.
Nate shuffled us out of the way, moving us to the doorway of another hallway that seemed pretty deserted at the moment, all while keeping me in his arms.
“Talk to me,” Nate said.
I stared up at him, wanting nothing more than to blurt out that he should take me upstairs. Now. But something stopped me.
“Hey, you two.”
Nate didn’t let me go, but we both turned to look at the elderly gentleman who had called to us. He had a kindly smile and pointed to something over our heads.
We looked up at the same time, and my breath left me as a jolt went through my body. Tears prickled behind my eyes. I managed to fight them off, but I could not tear my gaze from the sprig of mistletoe hanging above us.
I could almost hear my mother’s voice whispering in my ear as she retold the story of how she and my father had met in this hotel. And it all started when we found ourselves standing underneath the mistletoe…
“Emma?”
I lowered my chin and stared at Nate. And before I could form a coherent thought, I threw my arms around his neck, pressed my body to his, and took his mouth with my own.
I could feel the muscles in his shoulders tense as I kissed him. But in seconds, he relaxed and pulled me in closer, taking over the kiss as his mouth slanted and opened over mine.
His tongue plunged into my mouth, once and then again, before he pulled back. I stood there, my eyes closed, for several breaths. He held me tightly and I could feel his breath against my cheeks.
“Emma?” Nate’s voice held a note of concern.
My eyes drifted open. His face was still so close to mine and all I could think about was getting his lips back on mine.
“Now that’s what I call a kiss.” The old man’s voice broke into my thoughts, but didn’t quite break the spell I was under. I turned my head to look at him. He winked and grinned and then moved off down the hall.
“Nate.” I almost didn’t recognize the husky voice coming out of me. “I think I made a mistake.”
He stared down at me, his mouth a hard line. But, I noticed, he didn’t let go of me. A small flare of hope sparked in my chest.
“I want you to take me upstairs,” I whispered.
The only sign that my words had any impact on him was his hands clenching and unclenching on my hips.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nate said.
“Overthinking is supposed to be my problem,” I teased. I slid my hands down from around his neck and let them rest on his chest. “Unless…have you changed your mind? Do you not want to…?”
His hands gripped me hard and pulled me closer. “I want to, sweetheart. But I don’t think you know what you want.”
“I do.” And I did. The mistletoe over my head reminded me of my parents, how they’d met and married within a few months and lived happily ever after together for over fifteen years. Neither one of them spent time thinking about it.
Not that I expected a marriage proposal from Nate. Or really anything beyond this one night. But his words, the mistletoe, it reminded me of a time in my life, before my parents died, when every move I made wasn’t carefully planned and plotted and analyzed.
My friends were right. I needed an adventure. And everything in me told me I needed to find it with the man who held me in his arms.
“I know what I want,” I said, my voice surprisingly firm and clear. I looked into his eyes. “I want you.”
It was as if something inside him broke. He leaned down and gave me a swift, hard kiss before pulling back a little.
“You don’t have to do this.” His words were whispered against my lips. He pressed in again, the kiss more reassuring than passionate.
I pulled my head back and made sure he was looking in my eyes. “Thank you for that.” I leaned in and laid a lingering kiss on his jaw. “But I won’t be changing my mind again. I want this. You.”
He kissed me again, long and hard and deep. He pulled back and while I tried to catch my breath, his eyes roamed my face, searching for something. After a full minute, a smile played over his lips and he tugged me toward the elevator. He held me close, his arm around my waist as we waited for the elevator to arrive.
I fully expected a return of the panic. But it never came.
When the elevator opened, he looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. I leaned into him and used my shoulder to nudge him. He got the message and took my hand, pulling me inside along with several other people.
We stood, shoulders brushing, sides touching, my hand clasped in his much larger one, Nate holding me close as the elevator ascended to the thirtieth floor. As the doors opened at different floors to let some of the passengers off, I could almost feel my blood humming through my veins. Nervous excitement and flat-out arousal warred inside me. If the elevator didn’t make it to our floor soon, I would end up a puddle on the floor.
God, all this and the man barely touched me. I snuck a peek at him from under my lashes. His face was turned to the numbers above the doors. I shivered as I took in his chiseled jawline with the light stubble covering it, imagining the rasp of it chafing my skin.
As if he could hear my thoughts, he turned his head and gave me a sexy smirk. I shivered again.
“Can’t this thing move any faster?” I asked on a whisper.
His smirk turned into a grin and he moved his head down toward mine, stopping with our lips only a hair’s breadth apart. “Patience, sweetheart.”
This from the man who suggested we get a room less than an hour after we’d met.
Oh my God. Less than an hour! Who did that kind of thing? Well, truthfully, I knew lots of people did. But not me. Never me.
“You still with me?” he asked as the elevator dinged at
our floor.
I pulled in a steadying breath and grasped his hand tighter. This might not be my thing, but damned if I was turning back now. Just this once I could live out one of my fantasies instead of letting Brandi Silver live them for me on the pages of a magazine.
“I’m still with you.”
We stepped out of the elevator and moved to our room.
Our room. A jolt went through me and I did my best to put one foot in front of the other.
Chapter Five
He opened the door and held it, gesturing for me to precede him inside.
Standing in the doorway, I allowed my gaze to drift around the room. Anything to keep from thinking about what was about to happen here. I was gratified to see the winter motif had been carried through to the rooms. The lamps had shades with snowflake cutouts casting a glow on the dark walls. The framed art showed wintry scenes.
I took a deep breath and turned my attention to the king-sized bed in the center of the room. A fluffy midnight comforter with a large snowflake in the center was turned down at the top to show brilliant white sheets. The pillows were various shades of blue and white.
I moved forward and reached for a branch of a small fir tree that had been placed in the corner in front of the window. I ran a finger mindlessly over the needles. “Funny, in all the years I’ve visited the hotel, I’ve never been in one of the rooms. I wouldn’t have expected all this. It’s beautiful.”
I turned to find myself the object of Nate’s relentless gaze. As soon as my attention turned to him, he stalked forward, pulled me into his arms and kissed me. His lips moved over mine and his tongue stroked along the seam in my lips. I gasped as he pulled my body firmly against his so every part of me was pressed against him. He took the opportunity to plunge his tongue in my mouth, sweeping inside like a starving man dying to taste me.
His mouth left my lips only to slide across my cheek and land by my ear. His warm breath caused me to shiver and when he took my earlobe between his teeth, my knees got weak. I wrapped my arms around him, pushing myself even closer, letting him take most of my weight.
In a dizzying instant, we shifted and before I knew what he was doing, he had me on my back on the bed, his weight on top of me. I managed to kick off my shoes as I brought my knees up to create a cradle for him.
It was just as he said. The feeling of his body pushing me down into the mattress made every part of me tingle. He leaned in and before I could so much as blink, he was kissing me again. His mouth plundered mine as his hands came up to cup my breasts.
My arms snuck up to wind around his neck, pulling him more fully against me, his weight pinning me down. When his mouth left mine, it was to slide down to my neck, making a trail of nibbling kisses and licks as he went. At the same time, his thumbs slid over my nipples, moving achingly slowly back and forth over each peak.
I arched my back and tilted my head to give him better access. When he clamped down a little harder on the spot where my neck and shoulder met and stroked it with his tongue, a moan broke from me.
He sat up slightly to look down at me. I could only imagine the picture I presented. My short dress barely covered me as it was. Sprawled on the bed, back arched, legs out straight, it felt more like a belt, and I was suddenly super conscious of the glow of the lamp in the corner and the ambient light streaming through the window from the moonlight and the streets below us. I turned away, afraid to see his face as he took in all of me.
He groaned, a primal sound. My head snapped back so I could stare up at him. His expression caused goose bumps across my skin and a fine trembling all over. His eyes traveled my body. They lingered on my breasts for a moment and then dipped to my thighs. His head fell back and he squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. His breathing grew noticeably heavier in the quiet room before he opened his eyes and dropped his head to meet my gaze.
“Sweetheart, you look like heaven.”
Normally, I’d be squirming to pull up the sheets up by now. But the look on his face and his voice turning gruff as he gave me those words made me want to show him more of me. Made me want to wrap myself around him. Made me want to lose myself in him in a way I’d never done with anyone before.
I scraped my bottom lip with my teeth, staring up at him as need pulsed through me, unsure of how to get what I wanted—his hands on me, his mouth on me.
But I didn’t need to worry long. He dropped his mouth back to my neck as his hands slid over my waist and then up my side, one hand sliding around to tease upward toward my breast. The other slid up to sink into my hair, holding me still as he moved up to claim my lips again.
His lips hit mine hard. There was no teasing, no hesitating. He dove in and stroked my tongue with his. The feeling of him plunging his tongue inside, tasting me, devouring me, made me wild. I slid my hands from his shoulders, down his back, and up again. I could only put together one coherent thought—too many clothes.
I moved my hands restlessly over him, slipping around to find the front of his jacket.
With frantic passion more than finesse, I slid my hands underneath, working to push the thick cloth from his shoulders.
He chuckled against my mouth. “I guess you aren’t interested in slow anymore.”
I blinked up at him. Slow? I felt like I was about to burst into flames and he wanted to talk. The sultry voice that broke from me didn’t even sound like my own. “No, I don’t want slow.”
I continued to remove his jacket, struggling to slip it from between our bodies. He finally sat up and helped me. Before he had it completely off, my hands were moving to the buttons of his shirt, impatient to get to the warm skin underneath.
His hands moved to help me, unbuttoning from the top as mine moved up from the bottom. My hands shook with a combination of nerves and arousal. He’d really only kissed me so far and I felt completely out of control.
When our hands met in the middle, he smiled down at me. I let my hands drop as he peeled the gray shirt from his shoulders. Fascinated, I ogled him as the muscles across his shoulders and chest rippled as he tossed the shirt carelessly across the bed.
“Now you, sweetheart.”
I lingered over his bare chest for a moment before I swung my gaze up to meet his. I swallowed hard and a shudder moved through me. I was suddenly aware of how very little clothing I had on. A dress, a bra, panties, garters and stockings. In one pull, he could have my dress over my head and joining his shirt on the floor. And then this beautiful man with his sculpted chest and arms would be looking at more of me than pretty much anyone had ever seen. I bit my lip.
“What’s wrong?”
My eyes strayed from his. “I-I’m just...” I had no idea how to put words to my fears without sounding like a complete dork.
“Hey.” He leaned back down, the heat from the skin of his bare chest soaking into me wherever it touched.
I closed my eyes. I’d never felt so torn in my life. The feel of him on top of me made me want to strip myself naked and press every inch of my flesh to every inch of his. But years of fear held me back, the little voice in my head telling me once he saw me, all of me, I’d look up to see the naked desire gone from his expression, replaced by disappointment. Or worse, disgust.
I opened my eyes and stared up at him. His eyes held a mixture of dark desire and concern. The concern undid me.
Fuck it. One night only. He brought me up here and I was going to have the night of my life.
With new determination, I placed a hand on his chest and pushed. Confusion crossed his features until I reached behind myself to tug down my zipper. I took a deep breath and then leaned up, pushing him back further until he sat up fully, straddling my legs.
I reached for the hemline and looked up at him. I resisted the urge to tug the dress over my head, toss it across the room and scramble under the sheets.
Instead, I lifted the hem of my dress, pulling it up slowly enough to tease him with each bit of exposed skin. As I inched it over my waist, the backs of my hands bru
shed his bare chest and a deep groan escaped him. His eyes followed my hands as they moved up my body, taking the dress with them. When my dress reached my chest, I crisscrossed my arms and shimmied and tugged until it was over my head and completely off. I tossed it over to tangle with his shirt on the floor.
Despite the quaking fear that warned me to run and hide, I leaned back on my elbows, letting him take in every inch of me.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. He moved so swiftly I had no chance to brace myself as he pushed me back down on the bed.
His hands moved from my shoulders, sliding down my arms until he reached my hands. He clasped them and brought them both up over my head. He used one hand to hold both wrists and pinned my hands to the mattress above me.
Eyes wide, I stared at him as a wicked grin curled up the corner of his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea all the things I want to do to you.”
A shudder went through me, arching me into him. His smile widened. With his free hand, he caressed my jawline before trailing his hand over my neck and down to the top of my lacy black bra. He used one finger to trace over the curve of each cup, tantalizingly slow. I tried tugging free, needing to pull him closer to me, but he held tight.
“My turn,” he said.
Oh, boy. I stopped struggling, but couldn’t help the restless movement of my legs. He rewarded me by bending and using his tongue to trail along the same path his finger just took, licking and nibbling his way across the tops of my breasts.
My nipples hardened to tight peaks. I arched my back, offering them to him, wanting to feel his hands on me, his mouth. All of it. “Please.”
“I’ll take care of you,” he said, his voice a low growl. He brought his hand back up and, with a quick twist, unhooked the front clasp of my bra.
A gasp tore from me as he freed my breasts. His eyes dipped down and then darted back up to meet mine. “Gorgeous.”
He moved his head down to suckle one nipple, using his teeth and tongue to tug and tease. Intense, liquid pleasure flowed out from the point where his mouth did its work. I could feel a wet heat between my thighs and a long, low moan escaped me. I used my shoulders to push against the bed and offer more of myself to him.