Chapter 20
Only two vacant rooms? Easy. I’ll share with Lauren and Caleb can share with Dalton. The only problem with that plan is that my best friend is already making out with her man, giggling and damn near trying to wrap her leg around Caleb’s waist.
“Are you sure?” I ask the young woman behind the counter.
Dalton slants me a hard look. He didn’t miss the doubt in my tone. The receptionist didn’t either, raising her brows after a longer appreciative look at Dalton. As though she’s wondering why I wouldn’t want to shack up with a sexy guy like him.
It’s complicated, girl. Trust me.
“I’m sure,” she replies.
Lauren disentangles herself from Caleb and approaches. “We’ll get them,” she tells the receptionist.
Dalton shares a look with me, an unreadable one. Then he holds his hand up to Lauren at the same time he gives the receptionist his black credit card. “No, no worries. On me.”
He’s getting both rooms? One for himself and one for the lovebirds. But where am I gonna go? I don’t have to spell it out that we can’t possibly share a room.
“You want both rooms?” the receptionist checks.
“Wait. What?” Lauren laughs like that’s silly before she raises her brows at me. “You’re going to share a room?”
Caleb steps closer. “They only have two rooms?” He snorts, almost like a chuckle. “That’s what happened to us, remember?” he asks Lauren.
“Yeah. But it was only one room and we were already…” Lauren looks between me and Dalton, finding both of us deadpanned.
“We won’t share a bed,” Dalton says and shrugs. “Either way, none of us are fit to drive.”
“Are you sure?” Caleb asks me seriously. “You and Lauren can share a room.”
Thank you!
“No, no need.” Dalton shrugs again. “Two beds. I’m going to pass out as soon as I hit the bed.”
I sigh. Lauren grins at Caleb, seeming to think her night of burning up the sheets with Caleb is back on. Another flicker of envy hits me. Is the new-boyfriend phase really that exciting? I don’t remember it ever hitting me like it has for her.
“Yeah. Whatever. It’s fine.”
Lauren and Caleb don’t wait up, snuggling close as Caleb takes the room-card key from Dalton’s hand. They leave toward the elevator, kissing again and stumbling as they try to get as flush as possible and remain moving forward.
“Um.”
Dalton and I look back at the receptionist who cleared her throat behind us.
“There is only one bed in that room, actually.”
Of course.
Dalton’s expression is unreadable as he faces me. I roll my eyes and snatch the card out of his hand, heading toward the elevator. I’m aware of him following me because I feel the burn of his wicked stare like it’s searing me through my clothes. He might run hot and cold with me. He might be quick to dismiss me as a hookup, while he’ll also ask me to decide what’s going on. But as soon as the elevator doors close and trap us in the confined space of the metal cube, the tension is unbearable. I have to say something about this stupid predicament.
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
He doesn’t budge, staring at me like I’m an idiot.
“I’m not sharing a bed with you.” I cross my arms, needing to feel steady in those words I don’t want to believe.
Now he moves, lifting his hand to rub his jaw where a faint dark scuff is growing in. He doesn’t look like a rich dude out of a New York boardroom now. In that blue shirt and worn jeans, plus the facial hair, he looks deliciously rugged. Being alone in the elevator emphasizes that I’m with him for the night. All I can envision is getting under the sheets with him until morning.
Stop.
“Got it? I’m not sharing a bed with you again.”
He scoffs. “Again? We never made it to a bed the first time.”
My cheeks heat at his reminder. We hadn’t. I’d lunged at him on the floor in front of the fireplace at the BB. The way he says it makes it sound dirtier, though, more wicked and helpless than it might be otherwise.
Tongue-tied as the memories of what his lips felt like on me hit hard, I tip my chin up and look to the side.
“What else was I supposed to do?” he asks.
“Not get the room and plan to share it with me.”
“So I should’ve let you drive home? Drunk?”
I stab the button for the floor again, impatient at how long it’s taking. “I’m not drunk.”
“Buzzed. Call it what you want. You’re not stupid, Aubrey. You know you’re not fit to drive.”
“I’m stupid to consider sharing a room with you.”
He stalks close as his temper snaps, but he keeps it in check—barely. Clenching his jaw, he sets his hands on both walls in the corner where I stand. He’s caging me in, but I have plenty of room to duck under his arms.
“What’s your damn problem?”
“I don’t want to be stuck alone with you. Again.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Are you mad because you’d rather be going home with Hayes?”
I squint my eyes and gape at him. “Who’s the idiot now?” All I want is to be alone with Dalton. I don’t know how he can’t see that as well as he can realize I’m fighting that very situation. How dense is he?
“Saying you’ll sleep on some dirty carpet floor is pretty idiotic if you ask me.”
“I’m not asking you.” I shove him back as the elevator doors finally ding and open.
“Then forget about sleeping on any floor,” he retorts as he follows me out the elevator.
“What’s it to you?” I turn to toss him an angry glance over my shoulder. “I’ll do what I want.”
He narrows his eyes. “It’s not necessary,” he argues hotly.
I shake my head as I hold the card key up to the room’s panel. He is dense. Distance is very necessary tonight. I’m hanging by a thin thread, vacillating between resisting him and giving up because I can’t recall why I should.
The door opens and he enters behind me, then locks the door. “You don’t have to sleep on the fucking floor, Aubrey. I wouldn’t make a move on you knowing it’s not what you want.”
Not what I want?I scoff, incredulous as I barely notice the solitary bed in the room before facing him. I want him so bad it’s driving me insane. It’s my waning resistance that I’m clinging to that’s holding me up. I shouldn’t want him. “That’s not the problem—”
He runs his hands through his hair, irked by my reply. “You seriously don’t feel anything for me?”
I open and close my mouth, torn between the urge to yell at him and argue that I do. Stating my desire is too far of a step to commit to. I go for the stupider impulse instead.
I lower my hands and run to him. He catches me clumsily as I reach up to slide my hand to the back of his neck. I crush my lips to his before he can utter a single word, but his reply comes instantly anyway.
With a grunt of surprise, then a hungry growl, he moves his hands from my hips up over my back, securing me flush against him. Every point of touch between us lights me up. My skin tingles from the electric force of his mouth pressing against mine. Desire flares hotter, urging me to sling my arms around his shoulders, then his neck. Slammed against him, not an inch remains between us, but it isn’t enough.
I kiss him harder, relishing the way he gives as good as he gets, as though any separation would be a crime. I fist his hair and pull him lower so I can slip my tongue between his lips, and he compromises. Both of his hands cup my ass, and he hoists me up with ease.
I mewl, still needing more. I want it all. We’re hurdling too fast, mutually giving in to this potent lust, this magnetic attraction, and I know it’ll be over too soon. For as horny as I am, as impatient as I feel, I don’t care. It’s already been too long since I had this insufferable man, I want whatever I can get.
He has to feel the same. The hard bulge in his pants proves it. When he lowers himself to the bed with me in his arms, he shows me how frantic he is too. His fingers are clumsy, clawing at my clothes. His breath comes quick in pants that rival mine. I’ll catch my breath later. Without breaking our kiss for more than a second or two to accommodate the rushed and ripping removal of our clothes, I fumble to reveal his erection and stroke him.
“Wait.” He hisses as I spread my thumb in the liquid at the tip.
I shake my head, lifting my hips as he backs up and removes my panties. The distance he imposes makes me lose hold of him. I sit up and pout, but he doesn’t go far. He keeps close, diving down and wedging my legs apart with his shoulders as he crawls close to the ache between my legs.
I feel exposed because of the air touching me where I’m already wet for him. His stare remains locked on mine as he dips his face and closes his mouth over me, sucking and licking with his greedy lips and tongue.
“Oh!” I flinch at the sudden and intense pressure. This was exactly what I wanted, precisely what I was trying to tell myself I didn’t need. But I do. “Oh…”
He’s too fast, too eager. I’m soon thrusting my hips to meet his ministrations, and with his gaze still trapped on mine as he goes down on me, he reaches up to grip my ass cheeks, keeping me in place so he can make me come faster.
I could tell it would be fast, but not at warp speed like this. It’s heady. It’s thrilling. And I’m helpless to crash in a shattering climax. He keeps licking and sucking as I ride the waves of pleasure, but when he nips my clit to push me further into these all-consuming sensations, I cry out loudly.
“Shh.” He retreats from my sensitive flesh, leaving me quivering on the mattress as he crawls up and covers me.
Shh? No. “Don’t shush me,” I argue between breaths. I hug him close and widen my legs for his hard length to line up to my entrance. He might want me to be quiet for the sake of the other guests at the hotel, but that’s not possible. Now that I’m giving in—again—I want to revel in the way he makes me feel.
“They’re in the next room,” he whispers as I lock my ankles behind his ass. I push my hips toward him, bumping his tip, and he growls. I do it again, and his head pushes against me, widening me for him. Once more, as he thrusts in deep, and I match him with another lurch up to meet him, and he’s inside me, stretching me and making me feel so full and complete.
“Fuck!” he shouts, betraying his need to be quiet.
And as the night turns to morning, I lose track of who’s louder.