8. Levi
Levi
T his isn’t like last time. This isn’t like last time. This is not like last time.
I repeat the mantra in my head as Zoe’s heels click down the hallway next to me, her warm hand gripping mine tight. We’re headed back toward the ballroom, past which, thanks to an inspection I helped with here last year, I happened to know there’s a coat closet. One that’s surely as empty as a ghost town in the warm spring weather the city is enjoying this weekend.
In my wildest dreams, I never even imagined that tonight would pan out like this. That Zoe would bid on me. And win. That she’d leave the gala, knowing I’d follow her. That she’d propose we find somewhere more private . Hell, she turned me down flat only days ago and now…
Now, I’m proving her right. Stealing her away to another coat closet with every intention of a repeat. But I couldn’t resist. I mean, hell. She stepped right up, tugged my head down, and kissed me. Zoe Meyer, the woman I haven’t been able to get out of my mind for five years, pressed her sexy lips to mine. And with that? I was a goner. Exactly as she knew I’d be.
The honey-blonde physician, who frequents my dreams, sauntered in as if she owns them—which, to be honest, isn’t far from the truth—and came on to me. And despite my best efforts to forget the way I felt that night at the wedding, the way she made me feel, I’ve failed to resist her. Utterly and completely. And now? Now, my only option is to give her what she wants but then work my ass off to show her how this is nothing like last time. That everything, and I mean everything , is different now.
Ashley Adam’s voice, announcing another winning bid followed by a raucous round of applause, echoes from the grand ballroom, but I press on, past the series of double doors flung wide open. Spotting my target, I pull up to an unmarked door just beyond and glance back down the hallway. No staff are in sight, and the auction guests on their way to or from the restroom are too preoccupied to pay us any mind.
A sleek chrome keypad gleams beside the handle. I key in the four-digit universal fire service code, ignoring the twinge of guilt that works down my spine at using the knowledge for personal gain, as the lock clicks. I push the heavy, fire-rated composite door open. In compliance with building code, it’s extra thick—like my wool slacks in the crotch at the moment. The air inside carries the signature Plaza gardenia scent. Just like the rest of the public spaces in the hotel.
“Convenient,” Zoe murmurs, pressing against me as I feel for a light switch on the wall but come up empty-handed.
My eyes adjust to the pitch black of the coatroom, full of empty rolling racks holding hundreds of hangers as Zoe slips in behind me and the door clicks shut.
“Maybe, but I can’t lock this door from the inside,” I warn her.
“So we could be interrupted at any minute?”
The catch in her voice tells me she doesn’t mind the idea. In fact, quite the opposite.
“You wouldn’t mind being caught?” I trail a finger down her cheek. My question isn’t so much a question as a statement, a confirmation of the way the hint of danger turns her on. Just like the last time.
Fuck me. I didn’t realize it then, but the risk of discovery adds to her pleasure. I spin to meet her gaze, her red dress matching the glow from the status indicator on the smoke detector that serves as the only illumination in the room. “Too bad this door is thick enough to muffle any cries of pleasure.”
Her eyes flash. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Reyes?”
And with that, all bets are off. I lean forward and catch her lips against mine, slipping my hand from hers to dig my fingers into her hair, pinning her body back against the door. My cock twitches against her abdomen as she matches the move, fisting my hair roughly.
I swallow the moan that escapes her chest as I tilt my head for deeper access. My tongue slides between her lips and past her teeth to twirl with hers. But it’s not long before she’s turned the tables, her tongue exploring into my mouth, teeth nipping at my bottom lip.
Without wasting another minute, I break away from her lips with a gasp and lick my way over to her earlobe and down to her collarbone, leaving a trail of moisture in my wake. I tug the formfitting red dress, with a slit that should be illegal, up her thighs and groan against her pulse point as my fingers brush the goosebumps that rise on her smooth skin. Her hands push my jacket off my shoulders, and I slip out of it one arm at a time until it falls to the floor.
I wedge a hand between us and down, between her bare legs, to discover silky panties practically dripping with moisture. I wedge the fabric aside. She groans and widens her stance, her hips thrusting involuntarily against my forearm. I thrust two fingers deep, my thumb finding her clit and circling it as her nails dig into my shoulders.
“Levi,” she pants, rocking her hips. “Please.”
I know what she wants, and my cock is ready and willing to deliver, but a still-rational sliver of my brain sounds the alarm bell that this , right here, right now, although delivering what she asked for, is proof positive nothing has changed. That I haven’t changed.
But that’s a bridge I’ll have to cross tomorrow. Because right now, I’m already one handedly unzipping my fly and releasing my cock from its confinement, drawing a hiss through my teeth when she grips it in both hands, stroking from base to tip.
“I don’t have a condom,” I admit, the blood quickly draining from my head to rush south. “But I’m clean.”
“It’s okay,” she says, breathless, and I continue pumping her full with my fingers. “I have an IUD. And I’m clean, too.”
And with that, I slip my fingers out from her hot warmth and rip the thin fabric of her panties easily. Then, I grab her hips and lift her off the ground until her thighs circle my hips. I line up and thrust hard inside her, the pressure and pleasure nearly making my knees buckle.
Zoe gasps, and I feel her clench around my length, the tight hold making me faint as her breathing becomes ragged and her eyes squeeze shut. I move hard and fast, trying not to hurt her, but her back arches, urging me on.
“Any moment,” I growl, my fingertips digging into her flesh, “someone could try to come in here and catch me fucking you. Fucking you hard and fast.”
“Argh,” she cries, her legs tightening around me to pull me deeper. “I’m close, Levi. So close.”
Me, too.
I bury my face in her neck and double down, gritting my teeth as I hold out, determined to watch her come first no matter what. I knead her ass in my hands, the relentless rhythm sending beads of sweat rolling down my spine. And thankfully, it’s only a few more seconds until she peaks. Until every muscle in her body contracts and she cries out loud enough to be heard in the hallway. And I follow, my release filling her and sending any last hesitation that she’s mine flying from my head.