Chapter Three
Kellan
It was a good thing the hotel was close—and that we were already walking into the lobby. Since I was actually a gentleman, and sincerely intrigued to find out more about her, I quelled my desire to drag her straight up to my room. “You want a drink in the hotel bar before we go upstairs?”
Her lips curved up in a sexy smile. “Sure. A margarita on the rocks with salt on the rim. I’ll be right back. Need the ladies’ room.”
The bar wasn’t very crowded, allowing me to take two stools at the end and achieve semi-privacy.
As I ordered her margarita and a whiskey neat for myself, I realized I was nervous.
What the hell? Normally I was completely confident with a woman.
I was trying to put my finger on why I was feeling this way when she returned, sliding onto the stool next to me where her drink had already been delivered.
She lifted her glass for a toast. “Here’s to Russell texting me tonight.”
I chuckled. “Yes. Here’s to Russell.”
We clinked glasses. Then she took a sip in what had to be the sexiest way possible, with her pink tongue darting out to taste the salt before she tipped the glass for a drink.
“Now that you know far too much about my baggage, tell me about you. What made you move up here from California?”
She shrugged, staring into her glass. “I needed a change of pace. LA has been very exciting to me for the last few years, but lately it hasn’t held the same appeal.”
“Let me guess: you became an actress?” She certainly looked the part of an actress or model. But I didn’t remember Russ ever saying anything about that.
“God, no. I needed to pay the bills, and I’m complete shit at memorizing anything. But I did work for a movie studio.”
“What did you do there?”
“I was the social director, which is a fancy title for the person who plans parties for premieres, launches, and other special events.”
My brow arched. “You ever hang out with celebrities?”
“I wouldn’t say I hung out with them, but I’ve certainly met plenty. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Believe me.”
“So, you’re looking for a change?”
A glimmer of sadness reflected in her face. There was a story there, one I hoped she would share.
Her eyes focused down on her straw, and she stirred her drink as she answered. “Yeah. I’m in what I’m calling reset mode. Taking some time to focus on reorganizing my priorities. It’s been years since I’ve had my weekends and nights to myself.”
I supposed the parties she put on took up her evenings. “You worked a lot of hours?”
“Yes. Too many sometimes. I loved the excitement of it all in my early twenties, but it definitely took a toll.”
That was something I could definitely relate to. I felt like I’d been working most of my life in a constant chase for the next goal. I never took a break for fear I’d lose the race.
“Guess you could say I needed a reality check. To contemplate something other than the designer I’m wearing or if a particular celebrity had received the specific kind of water they’d insisted be flown in from Switzerland.
” She sighed. “I don’t mean to complain.
There were a lot of things I enjoyed about my job, but there was a wake-up call telling me I needed to do something more meaningful with my life. ”
“What was the wake-up call?”
For a moment, I thought she might confide in me, but she seemingly shook off the heavy stuff with a smile.
“It’s something that would definitely ruin the moment.
So enough of the philosophical reasons I’m trading Hollywood in for something different.
How about you? My brother indicated you were living in Boston?
What made you come back to the Pacific Northwest? ”
Although I was hungry for more details about her, I took her turn of focus in stride.
After all, this wasn’t a date. And I wasn’t interested in a long-term commitment or relationship.
At least, that was what I told myself out of habit.
After all, didn’t I always put work first nowadays?
“I took a job out of college to be an apprentice for a really great home remodel company out there. Learned a lot, but ultimately the goal was always to return here.”
Since I was the type of guy who always had a plan, I couldn’t help stressing over Layla’s lack thereof. “What are you going to do in Seattle? Career change?”
“Not positive I’ll stay here, but I think a change would be good.
For once, I’d love to have a job where I don’t come into the office to a hundred emails, half of which I’ve already felt compelled to read as soon as I woke up.
Or get cell phone calls at two in the morning from an agent in Europe who’s forgotten about the time difference.
My whole life, I’ve felt driven to get to the next level, but for what?
At some point, I guess you have to ask yourself what truly makes you happy. ”
Her words hit too close to home. Hadn’t I been fueled for the last few years by the overwhelming desire to do more, build better, make more money, and prove to myself I could be successful without anyone else’s help?
After my cousin’s betrayal, this had been my goal, and I’d felt so driven by it that I hadn’t stopped to figure out what was actually motivating me.
I certainly wasn’t ready to analyze if it made me happy or not.
“I’m curious or nosey, as my brother called it. Would you have been tempted to sleep with your ex tonight if I hadn’t arrived?”
“No,” I answered quickly. Too quickly if her raised brow was any indication. Damn.
“Absolutely not. Not that she didn’t offer.” Shit. That was an overshare. I threw back a good swallow of my whiskey. “Perhaps the drink was a bad idea. If I keep talking, I’m likely to ruin this before we get upstairs.”
But she merely looked amused. “You haven’t. I promise. And I’m happy for the drink. After all, this moment is the pinnacle of it all, isn’t it?”
“How do you figure?”
“The intrigue. Now we’re past the game of whether or not we’ll be sleeping together—the answer is still yes, by the way—now comes the anticipation of it all. It’s the best part.”
“If this is the best part, I’d say the execution in your past lovers has been lacking.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “Perhaps. Then again, there’s a beauty in the buildup.
Not knowing how it will go. If you’re the type of man to fumble with your clothes while trying to tear mine off, or if you’d rather go slow, peeling one article of clothing off of me at a time in order to savor the anticipation. ”
Christ. I was absolutely riveted.
Her eyes held a playful gleam. “There’s the dance. The question of if it’ll go slow or fast—or the worst case where I end up counting the minutes until it’s over. But not to worry, I don’t think you’re that guy.”
“Nobody should be that guy.”
Her laughter was music to my ears. I loved that we seemed to have a similar sense of humor.
“I imagine that at seventeen every teenager is that guy, but I digress. The first time is loaded with me wondering, imagining, anticipating.”
“And tell me, what is it you’re wondering.” I was turned on, not only by her words, but also by the way her body was tilting into mine, her eyes bright with the anticipation she was talking about.
She leaned closer, her voice a husky whisper.
“I’m wondering if you’re the alpha type who takes charge in the bedroom.
Or if you’ll need direction. If you’ll be hurried or influenced from the alcohol you’ve had tonight, or if you’ll go slow and savor it.
Are you the type of man to taste me first, giving me an orgasm with your tongue?
Or will you go straight for the condom? Do you like foreplay, or do you get right to the point?
Are you a dirty talker, or are you silent and intense?
When you slide inside of me, will it be missionary, against the wall, or from behind me?
Will you lavish attention on my body, especially my breasts, or simply ignore them for what you deem the real prize?
And finally, are you the type who will bring me to climax before reaching yours? ”
I was unbelievably aroused and hard as a rock. “And what am I wondering?”
She leaned forward. “You’re wondering if I’ll wrap my lips around your cock, then if I’m the type who will play with your balls or simply use my hand when I do.
Will I deep-throat you or hope that jacking you at the same time will help speed up the process?
Will I tease you? And most importantly, will I swallow or spit?
Then you’ll wonder just how dirty I am. If you’ll spook me by being a little rough, or will I enjoy it a little kinky? ”
I shifted in my seat and motioned for the bartender. “You’ll have to excuse this cliché, but I’m gonna ask for the check now.”
She chuckled, downing the remainder of her drink while I did the same with mine, after which I quickly signed the check for my hotel room and slid off my stool.
I led her to the elevator doors, realizing I needed to kiss her. Right now.
Not waiting to ask permission, I took her lips the moment the doors closed.
I could tell she was surprised, but she soon melted into me, giving me access to her mouth.
The taste of tequila lingered on her lips, the chill of the drink making her tongue cool to the touch in delicious contrast to the heat of the kiss.
Once the elevator dinged for the fifth floor, pulling away was a monumental effort, but one that was worth it considering I couldn’t wait to get her into my room and undress her.
Her seductive words played on my mind, making me anxious at the same time I wished to savor every moment. When I opened the hotel room door with my key card, I noticed my hand was shaking from sheer adrenaline. When was the last time I’d been this turned on? The answer was never.