10. Neomi
The ride to the hotel felt like an eternity. I sat in the plush leather seat of his car with my panties already wet and anticipation coursing through my veins. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t have to, because I could feel the energy coming from him.
After valeting the car, we walk inside toward the elevators. We step inside and the doors slide shut, sealing us inside.
I stand facing him. Across from me, Lars leans back against the wall—one ankle crossed over the other, hands relaxed at his sides. The look in his eyes tells me he feels the connection between us too, that he wants me.
His eyes track me slowly, as if he’s cataloging the damage he could do before he decides where to start. From my heels to my thighs, the curve of my waist, the way my chest rises—until his gaze settles on my mouth.
Heat floods me as he shifts, palm pressing unapologetically against his hard cock through his pants. Like he knows exactly what’s running through my head—and he wants me to beg for it.
His voice drops. “You’ve been tempting me all night, Bella.”
I swallow. “That’s a bold assumption. I’m not a woman who attempts to influence a man, Lars.”
His mouth curves. “It’s an observation. I saw every shift in your chair, every time you clenched your thighs.”
As the elevator climbs, the air between us becomes thick with electricity.
He steps toward me, tipping my chin up with his thumb. “We’re both in the business of watching for tells.” His eyes scan my face. “We’re both people who look for weaknesses to use when the time is right.”
I should tell him to step back. I should remind him that we barely know each other. Instead, I arch into him.
Something flashes across his face—unmistakably pleased. “You and I are so alike; I don’t think you realize it.”
“You were watching me?” I ask quietly.
His gaze sharpens. “I don’t know why you have the effect that you do over me, but yes, Bella, I was watching you. I couldn’t take my eyes off you…”
The elevator dings, but neither of us moves as the doors part.
That’s when I grab his wrist and pull him with me, heels striking hard against the carpet as I drag over six feet of lethal intent down the hall. Every step feels reckless.
We reach my door. I’m already reaching for my phone, the lock lighting green, but he spins me before I can finish.
My back hits the door with a soft thud, and suddenly there’s no space left between us. His hands frame my jaw, tilting my head exactly where he wants it before his mouth claims mine---demanding and all restraint gone.
I gasp, and he takes advantage of it. I dissolve into his touch as his tongue slides against mine. His sharp inhales and gentle moans vibrate through me.
When he pulls back, his breath is uneven, his eyes a stormy sea of blue. His mouth traces down my throat—then he sucks, hard enough to make me hiss and grip his jacket for balance.
“Lars—”
He moans and releases my skin, leaving it pulsing. His pupils are blown wide, control hanging by a thread as his hand drops to his pocket.
He pulls out a card. Black, heavy stock with his name and number. He slips it between my parted lips before I can protest.
“Next time,” he says, thumb brushing my lower lip, and I bite down on the card, “I want to take you to dinner before we fuck.”
My mind blanks. My body doesn’t understand.
He steps out of my space. I want to follow him, but I can barely feel my legs. I draw the card from my mouth with unsteady fingers.
Then he leans in, breath warm at my ear.
“Go into your room and undress. Get into bed and think of all the ways I could fuck you. Think of me behind you, think of your ankles on my shoulders while I drive you into the mattress.” He glides one finger along the fabric of my pants over my clit.
“Think of how fucking beautiful you’ll be when you’re on your knees, mouth full of my cock.
All the while, knowing how much I want to be buried in this tight cunt.
Get yourself off while you think of me, Bella. ”
My knees begin to buckle, but his hand catches my waist, steadying me as a low, satisfied sound slips from his throat. He presses a brief kiss onto my cheek.
“God fucking knows when I get back to mine, I’m going to fuck my fist desperately, remembering the taste of you on my tongue.
” He runs a finger along the pulse in my neck.
“I don’t know what it is about you…I rarely restrain myself when it comes to sex, but damn it, you make me want more.
” And then—like he didn’t just dismantle me against a hotel door—he straightens, adjusts his shirt, and says, “Call me when you’re ready, Neomi. ”
He walks toward the elevator.
I’m so fucked.