Chapter 8
Eight
“We have nothing to talk about. I’m in the middle of a book signing.” Stacy started forward, but Michael held her, wouldn’t let her go.
“You have to listen to me. I—”
Stacy seethed, gathered all her strength, and pushed against his chest as hard as she could. “The only thing I have to do is get back to my signing!”
Michael didn’t budge. Geez, he really was one solid mass of muscle.
“Have you talked to Ronnie?”
What the hell was he talking about? “Ronnie? I haven’t seen her since last night. What does she have to do with anything?”
“Thank God.” Michael’s face softened a bit. His hazel eyes scorched her skin. “You look beautiful.”
Now she knew he was full of it. She’d just seen her puffy brown eyes in the bathroom mirror. “Thanks. I’d like to think you mean that, but you’re a known liar.”
“I never lied to you.”
“Right.” She scoffed. “Let’s just call it omission then. You neglected to tell me you were looking for a sugar mama.”
“Look, I know you overheard Ronnie and Dino talking, but Dino didn’t know what he was talking about. I swear it.”
“Let me go, damn it!”
“No! Not until you listen to me!”
“I could listen all day, Michael, but I’ll never believe a word you say.”
“Oh?” His eyes burned, his nostrils flared. Ruddiness colored his chiseled olive cheeks.“Then maybe you’ll believe this!”
His lips came down on hers with the force of a hurricane. Strong hands clamped her cheeks.
Stacy squirmed, pressed her lips together, tried, tried so hard…but it was too much. His mouth, though uninvited, was magic on hers. His kiss was hard, raw, and unapologetic, and it ignited fire in her veins. He hadn’t shaved, and his rough stubble burned the soft skin of her cheeks. And that burning was good, so good. It added to the carnal intensity of their mouths mashing together. They ate at each other as though they’d been hungry for weeks. He plunged his fists into her hair, growled into her mouth.
They kissed and kissed, until Michael pulled away and drew a ragged breath. “Come with me.”
He grabbed Stacy’s hand and whisked her down the hallway to a secluded alcove.
“Michael, the booksign—”
“Fuck the book signing,” he said, his voice a primitive snarl. He lifted her skirt and ripped off her lacy thong with his bare hands.
“Michael!”
“I need you, Stace. And by God, I’m going to have you. Now.”
Stacy shuddered. She should run. Run screaming. But something in his voice, in his eyes, held her still. He wouldn’t hurt her, she knew. Need burst to life in her core and rushed through her body. Juice trickled from her pussy.
Michael’s fingers sought her slit. “God, you’re wet. I knew you’d be wet for me.”
Stacy closed her eyes and inhaled. If he didn’t fuck her soon, she was sure she’d die an untimely death right here in the hotel hallway. The clink of his belt buckle and zing of his zipper buzzed in her ears. Then, the rip of the condom packet. He pushed her against the wall, lifted her, and set her down upon his cock.
Her body arched and her thighs opened. How glorious he felt inside her! She wrapped her thighs around his waist, hugged herself to him. She dug her nails into his shoulders and rocked upward, eagerly meeting every one of his thrusts.
“God, yeah, baby, that’s it. Let me fuck you.”
She leaned down and bit into the corded muscle of his neck. A salty tang danced across her tongue. She bit him again, wanting to mark him. To mark Michael Moretti as the property of Stacy Oppenheimer. She bit once more, harder still, and he rocketed into her with a growling gasp. A scraping at her neck made her wince. He was biting her, marking her too. Fuck, it was sexy.
Perspiration from their faces comingled, drizzling down their cheeks and necks. Stacy’s breath came rapidly, her pulse racing, as she rode him with abandon. Tingles shot through her, and within moments, the familiar sparks jolted through her clit. God, she was coming, and oh, it was a good one!
“Michael!” Her voice sounded as though it were outside her body. “I’m coming!”
“Yeah, baby, come for me,” he huffed.
She shot upward, coming down upon his cock just as she burst.
“Aaauugh!” He thrust harder. “God, I’m coming too!”
They rocked together, sharing the orgasm, until the electricity between them was so thick Stacy swore it was almost visible. Silvery threads joining them, joining their souls.
When the sparks settled, Stacy’s head was on the moist hardness of Michael’s shoulder. She raised it, looked around. Thank God the coast was clear. She eased herself downward, unclamping her legs from around Michael’s hips. Her legs wobbled a little when her feet hit the ground, but she steadied herself and lowered her skirt. Her underwear was a lost cause.
She didn’t look in his eyes. She couldn’t. She feared what she might see and what he might see in hers. This wasn’t just sex to her anymore, but it could never be what she wanted. He didn’t want her. He wanted only a caretaker, a provider.
She said nothing as she pushed him away from her body.
“Stace?”
She looked at her watch. “I missed the end of the book signing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not. But it doesn’t matter. I’m leaving.”
“What about us?”
“There is no us, Michael. There never was.”
“But we just—”
“We just fucked, Michael.” Stacy adjusted her skirt once more. “You’re a fabulous fuck. I’ll give you that. Whoever you end up with won’t have any complaints.”
She walked away.
He didn’t follow her, and her disappointment that he didn’t irked her. She’d been one last fuck to him. Silently, she berated herself for giving herself to him one last time. She’d been weak, but no longer.
After a quick trip to the restroom to assess her appearance, she returned to the ballroom, gathered her belongings from the book signing, and strode straight to the hotel lobby where her luggage awaited her.
As she walked to the taxi line, Veronica called her name.
“Wait, Stacy!” The younger woman ran toward her. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“Yes, I am. It was great meeting you, Ronnie. Be sure to send me your work to critique. I’ll be happy to help.”
Veronica paused to catch her breath. “I’ve got to start working out.”
“You look great.”
“Yeah, but I’m in lousy shape. Don’t leave yet. I need to talk to you.”
“What is it? I only have a few minutes. There’s a flight I want to catch on standby.”
“I need to talk to you about Michael.”
“Look, Ronnie, I don’t blame you for what happened. Or Dino. In fact, I’m glad I found out.”
“I know, Stacy. I know you don’t blame us. Though I feel awful about it.”
“Don’t.”
“It’s just, Dino told me some more stuff about Michael. Stuff you should probably know.”
“I know all about Michael Moretti that I need to know. He used me. Case closed.”
“Stacy, please listen. He hasn’t had an easy life.”
“Who has?” Stacy shook her head. “I’ve really got to go, Ronnie. I don’t want to miss this plane.” She gave Veronica a quick hug. “Keep in touch.”
Before Veronica could say anymore, Stacy lugged her suitcase outside and entered a waiting cab. Veronica rushed out the door as the cabbie drove off.
Home.
Home in her own bed would be the perfect spot for one last cry over Michael Moretti. Then she’d move on.