Chapter 6
STOP, DON’T STOP
Michelle
My reflection in the brass doors of the elevator would give me away.
My cheeks were rosy, my hair was slipping from its clip, and the collar of my blouse already needed readjusting.
It was a look I hadn’t worn in years, but it was one I liked on myself.
The look of a woman about to have hot, dirty sex with a man she barely knew.
Oh, yeah, Michelle Milo was getting some action tonight, and it wasn’t the battery-operated kind.
A couple walked behind me. A man with slick black hair had his arm draped around a young blonde. They were wrapped up in each other, but seemed to check me out before they turned the corner.
I stood alone outside the elevators, waiting for Jack to return from the front desk where he was booking a room, and I practically wanted to high-five my own reflection.
But that would be premature, right? What if he was bad in bed?
Man, what a drag when that happened. You get all hot and bothered and raring to go, and everything is clicking on all cylinders from the conversation to the connection to the magical thing known as chemistry, then bam.
I crossed my fingers and sent a silent prayer to the universe—or maybe even just to the Patron Saint of Endowment—that Jack had the kind of package and skills that would make my mouth water.
Then I chuckled to myself, almost shocked at the thoughts racing through my head. But right now, I was living in the moment. Far too often I was all-work-and-no-play Michelle. But I was my after-hours self now.
Jack—or Just Jack as I now thought of him—walked toward me, and I took him in, his tie loosened, his white shirt rumpled, his pants…
My eyes had strayed there and I snapped them up quickly.
He brandished a key card, flashing it at me with a knowing wink, then whispered in my ear, “Were you just checking me out?”
A flush splashed across my cheeks in a flurry. I nodded. Honesty, right? “Caught red-handed.”
“I like that you were looking.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he said, and seconds later the elevator doors opened with a swish, then closed with a swoosh. Faint music played inside, a low beat, sexy and moody. The lighting was dim and silver walls flashed our faces back at us in a midnight-blue glow. I was sure this hotel was rarely used for business.
“Are you sure you were here for a business deal?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because this is a sex hotel. I think that’s the only reason people come here.”
“Then isn’t it good that we met here?” he asked, but before I could answer, he spun me around, so I faced the wall of the elevator as the lift chugged upstairs.
He crowded me in, and I gripped the bar as he pressed his body against me, his firm chest flush with my spine, and his erection against my lower back.
The hard, full, thick length of it.
I sighed happily, and grinned at him in the reflection, then pushed back against him, letting him know I liked what I felt.
“I’m glad you approve,” he said in my ear, his voice low, raspy, and thoroughly intoxicating.
“Seems I do so far,” I said, as lust washed through me.
As the elevator soared, he tugged me in closer, and the heat in my core shot up.
He traveled from my ear to the back of my neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses that made my belly clench and my thighs tighten.
His hands roamed down my sides to my waist, hips, and thighs, as he ground against my ass, giving me a hint of what was in store.
“What do you want me to do to you when we get in that room?” he asked, and I gasped when I felt his hand on the back of my knee, brushing his fingertips against my bare flesh.
“What are my choices?”
“Here are some options. Lick you, finger you, or fuck you?”
My eyes floated closed as a wave of sparks shot through my body like a flare gun. I licked my lips. “I’m hungry. Can I have the one, two and three, please?”
“As you wish.” He moved his hand up my thigh, and I gripped the bar harder because my legs felt wobbly from his touch.
Then his palm was on my ass, and he teased at the lace of my panties with his fingers, trailing them along the edge, one finger hooking into the band.
“You do have a fantastic fucking ass. Both cheeks are gorgeous,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said softly, silently thanking my new running habit for his compliments.
The lift slowed as we neared the twenty-first floor.
“Almost there,” he mused as he brushed his fingers along the edge of my ass.
Instinctively, I shifted my stance, opening wider, giving him access even if we were only in this elevator for ten more seconds.
I wanted to be touched so badly it felt like a madness.
Like I’d lose my mind if he teased me any more with those fingers that seemed to know the path around my body.
He dipped his thumb under my panties, then edged closer to where I was molten for him.
“And you’re so fucking wet already,” he growled, lightly brushing his fingers over the damp scrap of fabric. My back bowed, my body crying out for his touch. “Is this all from when I kissed you at the bar?”
“No. It’s from you trying to fuck me in an elevator,” I said, firing back. I might have been unlucky in love, but I knew plenty about sex, and I wasn’t going to play the part of a sweet, shy thing.
But he didn’t seem to want me to, because he slipped his hand between my legs, sliding a finger through my slick flesh.
“Good, because I want to fuck you in the elevator. In the hallway. On the bed. In the shower. I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you,” he said as the elevator stopped and the doors opened.
We spilled out into an empty hall. Praise the Goddess of One-Night Stands, because he pushed me up against the wall in seconds, grabbing my wrists and holding them at my sides, and kissing me so hard that I was sure I might melt into a puddle of simmering lust and heat.
I was wanted. Desperately wanted. By someone I craved. I had no notion when I walked into The Pierson that I’d be doing anything but walking out an hour later when my talk was done. But my plan for the evening had been upended, turned and twisted inside out into something entirely unexpected.
My whole body pulsed for him, blood thrumming through my veins to the rhythm of want, a pounding in my ears that blotted out everything but the feelings that charged through me.
I spent so much time in my head. So many moments of my life thinking, analyzing, considering.
Throwing that all out the door, I angled my hips as if I could pull him closer, even with my hands pinned. He responded with a press of his body. We were magnets tonight, crashing into our opposite charge, smashing, pushing, pulling.
His thumbs dug into my wrists as he held me tight, the pressure from them a new kind of sensation, hard against my bones. His lips smashed against mine, his mouth all-consuming, taking my breath, taking my space, leaving nothing behind but hot need.
Now. That word echoed in my brain. I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t stop. I wanted him everywhere. Tongues, lips, mouth, fingers, but most of all I wanted him inside me. I ached with a deep throbbing desire that had to be quenched.
I managed to somehow separate my lips from his greedy ones that wanted to devour me.
“Oh god, Jack,” I breathed out in a voice that was feather-thin. I was barely able to form words. Language seemed a monumental task, akin to climbing a mountain right now. Words were hazy, nebulous, but somehow I grabbed hold of the most important ones. The ones I knew he wanted to hear.
“I need you inside me. I can’t wait for anything else.”
“I can’t wait to give you a much better orgasm than the one you were going to give yourself,” he said, grabbing my hand, threading his fingers through mine and leading me around the bank of elevators and to the room.
He slid the key card into the slot and turned around, grabbing the waistband of my skirt, tugging my hips in close, and kissing me once more, as if he couldn’t stop.
As if he simply had to touch and taste me.
First my jawline, then my lips, then deep into my mouth, kissing me passionately and with so much fire that I was certain we were going to set off smoke detectors any second.
But even if we did, I wouldn’t stop. Let them sound. Let them ring.