Chapter 7 Grayson #2
“Oh,” I say, now understanding her impending panic. “Okay then. I can try and find—”
“Stay with me.”
I look over to Kat, because while the thought did cross my mind, I didn’t want to push her into something she might not be comfortable with.
“Are you sure?”
She flashes me a familiar smile—the one that looks awfully familiar to the night we met when she suggested we take our night to another location.
“I’m sure. Plus, not like we haven’t done this before.
” She quickly glances to the attendant, who hasn’t taken a breath yet, before glancing back to me. “You know…share a room.”
Oh this vixen…
“Okay, then, it’s settled,” I say and turn back to the very relieved-looking hotel worker. “Can we get a second key please?”
“Yes, absolutely,” the attendant says and walks away. I take the break to turn back to Kat, needing to make sure one more time she’s okay with this.
“Are you absolutely sure?” I ask. “I can find somewhere else to stay.”
She shakes her head and leans into me. “I mean, I’d hoped that we’d be spending most nights together anyway. This just saves us the decision of whose room to go to.”
I turn slightly to kiss her cheek, but don’t pull away. “I love how your brain works.”
“Work smarter, not harder. Am I right?”
“Right,” I say, my voice coming out as a near growl as I grab our bags. “So fucking right.”
I have no less than a thousand questions to ask Kat. How did it never come up that we’d both be in East Tennessee? What kind of work does she do that also brings her here? And how in all the hotels in all of Rocky Top did we both end up here? Together?
But I’ll have plenty of time to ask all of those and more.
Right now the only thing on my mind is kissing the hell out of this woman.
I wanted to in the elevator. So did she.
I could see it. Instead, we shared knowing looks about what happened the last time we were in an elevator, and what’s going to happen the second we’re inside our room.
“Door. Now.” I say into her ear, knowing I’m not helping one bit as I kiss down her neck as she tries to insert the key card.
“It’s not working,” she says, though I’m not sure how much she’s really trying. I seem to have found the spot on her neck where just a breath makes her literally melt into my arms.
“Do you want me to try?”
She nods and hands me the key. I step around her to get a better angle, but Kat doesn’t move. She stays right next to me, her hand not so slyly rubbing over my cock, and she presses those tits that I haven’t been able to get out of my mind into my arm.
“Kat…” I groan as I try to insert the card.
“What? Am I distracting you?”
“You know you are,” I say as I pull the card out too quickly, flashing the red light.
“I’m just saying, it’s not as easy as it looks.”
Her hand wraps around my cock through my jeans, squeezing it just enough to send the perfect amount of pleasure through me. Knowing I can’t wait a second more, I concentrate harder on this than I’ve concentrated on anything in my life, insert the key, and by the grace of the hotel gods it opens up.
We barely have our bags inside and the door hasn’t even latched before our lips are crashing together. We’re kissing like we haven’t seen each other in months, not just days. Our hands are everywhere, as lips are begging, and our feet are stumbling backward, hopefully leading us to a bed.
Shirts are already coming off as Kat and I literally fall into the mattress that somehow we found.
We calm slightly and my weight settles in on top of her as our mouths and hands start to rediscover each other.
Her legs are wrapping around me as I move down the cup of her bra—navy this time—as my mouth lowers to her nipple.
I feel her body squirm under me as I start kissing and sucking at the hard tip.
I’ve always been a fucking goner for a woman with curves.
And Kat? She has them for days and in all the right places.
Full and perfect. Tits that I did, and will again, get lost in.
Hips that I want to leave marks on with how hard I squeeze them.
An ass that I want to see, and maybe make a little pink, as I take her from behind.
She’s perfection. And for this weekend, and hopefully longer, she’s all mine.
We start to find a more even rhythm—not as rushed and frantic—when I hear the telltale sign of her stomach rumbling. I stop what I’m doing, and she goes still, as it makes the gurgling sound again.
"Have you eaten today?"
"Yes," she says slowly, though her eyes are wandering like she has to think about it. "I had a bagel this morning.”
I lay down one more kiss on her chest before I prop myself up on my elbows. "How about this? We press pause to this—emphasis on pause—freshen up, go downstairs, and have our first official dinner date.”
She gives me a smile that hits me right in the heart. “I like the sound of that. Even though I still contend hot dogs were a valid first dinner.”
“I prefer to call it our appetizer.”
That makes her smile. “I must say, I’m surprised you want to go get dinner.”
“Really? Why?”
She presses into me, her chest coming in contact with mine. “I figured you’d suggest room service.”
I lean back down, my lips just inches away from hers.
“While that does sound amazing, if we stay in this room, I'm going to ignore your stomach and fuck you until neither of us can walk. My only meal is going to be your pussy, and you’re going to have my cock for dessert. And for what I have planned, I’m going to need you well fed. ”
Kat is hungry in every sense of the word if her dilated eyes are any sort of signal. “You have plans?”
“Oh Kat,” I say, going in for one more kiss. “So many plans.”
As hard as it was to keep my hands off Kat while we got ready—and holy shit was it hard, given the woman literally got dressed in front of me so I know for a fact which pair of panties she chose to wear tonight—I did it.
An hour later, we’re walking hand-in-hand down to The Lookout, the restaurant at the Timberline Inn.
“Two?” the hostess asks.
“Yes. Table for Ross.”
She checks her reservations before grabbing two menus. “Yes, Mr. Ross. Right this way.”
I move my hand to the small of Kat’s back as we walk through the restaurant.
I keep one eye on where we’re going, and another to take in as much as I can.
Good ambiance. Soft lighting that’s the perfect amount of not too dark and not too bright.
Instrumental Christmas music filling the air, but again, at the perfect volume, so guests don’t have to shout.
Tea lights are on each of the tables, adding to the intimate feel of the restaurant.
“This place is gorgeous,” Kat says, and now that I look at her, her gaze looks a lot like mine, taking in every little detail. She’s likely doing it out of pleasure, while I’m taking mental notes of every single thing that sticks out to me, good and bad.
“It really is. The perfect place for a real first date.”
“Second date.”
We share a smile as the hostess puts down our menus and I take the moment to pull Kat’s chair out for her.
“Why, thank you,” she says as she slides in. “Quite the gentleman.”
I laugh as I take a seat across from her. “In some areas.”
I send her a wink, and a slight blush creeps over her cheeks as the waitress comes over to greet us. She tells us the specials for the night—including a steak dish that I’ll absolutely be ordering—and we each order an old fashioned before she walks away.
Kat is still looking over the menu, but I can’t stop staring at her.
“What?” she asks when she catches me.
“I just can’t get over this,” I say. “The chances for this to be happening have to be less than winning the lottery or hitting a royal flush on the deal.”
“Probably true,” she says as she closes the menu. “Did you say you’re here for work?”
I nod. “Yes. Well, I’m meeting a potential new client. We’re sneaking in a meeting before the holidays to see if we’re going to be a fit.”
“Wow. What are the odds indeed?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
I can tell that her brain is doing the same as mine, trying to make sense of all of these coincidences as our waitress comes back over with our drinks. Something isn’t right. I have a weird feeling about this whole thing, but I can’t quite put a finger on it.
“What is it you do?” I ask. “I don’t think we ever talked about it.”
She takes a sip of her drink before answering. “I’m in public relations. Well, more media strategy for corporate businesses. You?”
I choke on the bourbon. Because in that second, everything is coming into focus.
Why she was at speed dating.
Why she’s here.
That Kat is short for Katherine and not spelled like a fucking cat.
And what I think is true is confirmed when a husky voice breaks the sudden tension.
“Look at that! Grayson Ross and Katherine Smith, the Timberline’s two guests of honor, dining together. What a small world!”
What a small world indeed…