a low moan, her hips pressing even more firmly against his as she pitched forward again. Her teeth closed around the firm flesh of his shoulder, and Seth bucked under her, his fingers digging into her back as he exploded with a harsh roar that was a good more animalistic than she would have expected from a buttoned-up businessman.
She relished every moment of it.
Brooke didn’t know how long they stayed there, his arms wrapped around her as she lay draped over his shoulder, panting against his neck as the heat of their bodies cooled to the self-satisfied postcoital bliss.
Later, she wouldn’t remember how he maneuvered them down to the mattress, but she would remember the moment that he lay down beside her, pulling the covers over them, as his hand spread possessively over her belly, nudging her back against his chest.
She would remember that as good as the sex was—and it had been mind-blowingly good—the unexpected cuddling somehow seemed better.
Alexis said it was possible not to let things get complicated.
Belatedly Brooke realized that maybe she should have asked her boss how.
Chapter Twenty
IF THE NIGHT BEFORE Seth had been feeling regret about living in a hotel, he quickly reversed his opinion the next morning. There was something wonderfully convenient about being able to offer a woman a gourmet breakfast in bed without so much as turning on a stove.
Although, if any woman was worth slaving away in the kitchen for, it might just be the woman currently curled up in his bed.
After calling room service and asking them to send up five different breakfast options, Seth poured two cups of coffee, frowning when he realized he didn’t know how Brooke took hers.
Which felt sort of strange, considering they’d spent a good deal of the last ten hours naked together.
It was an uncomfortable reminder that this wasn’t like him. He’d had one-night stands before, mostly in his early twenties, but those had all been the sort of drunken hookups that ended with one of them leaving in the early-morning hours with a headache and regrets, not spending cozy mornings in bed.
And as for the women that had awoken in his bed, he knew them. He took them to dinner and did the flowers-and-expensive-wine routine before seeing them naked.
There’d been none of that with Brooke, and yet he did know her, he realized as he poured some milk into his coffee. It was strange, since she’d been a part of his life for only a few weeks and much of that had been spent with them at each other’s throats, that she didn’t feel like a stranger.
She didn’t feel like a one-night stand, either, if he was being honest. What a fucking mess.
Seth gave a slight smile as he heard a rustling sound from the bedroom and, picking up the coffees, headed back to where Brooke was waking up. He leaned against the doorjamb as the lump that was Brooke’s body was starting to stir—she was a burrower when she slept. When he’d awoken, she’d been curled into a tight little ball, only her long blond hair visible above the covers.
Now a slim arm appeared as she stretched, then another, and then finally her head as she rolled upward to a sitting position, unfortunately having the presence of mind to tuck the sheet beneath her armpits, covering up those gorgeous bare breasts.
She blinked sleepily as she tried to get her bearings.
“Morning,” he said quietly as her gaze came to rest on him.
Brooke’s hand immediately flew to her head, only to let it drop again with a sigh. “It’s hopeless, huh?”
“Let’s just say you look thoroughly bedded,” he said, pushing away from the doorjamb.
“Translation. My hair’s a mess?”
He smiled, wisely avoiding the question, and held up one of the mugs in his hand. “I didn’t know how you like your coffee. This is black, but I’ve got sugar and some milk in the fridge.”
“A spoonful of sugar would be great. No milk.”
“I think I can handle that.”
Seth headed back into the kitchen to add sugar to her mug. When he returned, he noticed that Brooke had done some sort of feminine witchcraft on her hair, turning the previous cloud of tangles into a tidy braid hooked over one shoulder.
“Is it bad to say I liked your hair better before?” he asked, handing her the mug before sitting on the side of the bed and shifting to face her.
She snorted into her coffee. “Why, because it reminded you of all your manly prowess last night?”