to make things so much messier in the long run. It’s going to hurt to walk away from her, but at the end of the day, her life is here in New York in her castle and mine is back in Missouri.
“We can just cuddle,” she assures me as she steps closer.
I huff a laugh. We both know better.
“You holding me last night was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she confesses, her cheeks turning the sexiest shade of pink.
The woman is starved for attention, and the barbarian in me wants to lavish her with it. Spend hours making her realize she’s the only one I see, the most important person.
Fuck, tonight is going to be hard, the morning even harder, but as I press the button to open the elevator, I’m still not sure who it’s going to be hardest on, her or me.
The pause on the elevator was another link breaking the impulsivity excuse, as is standing to the side while she opens the door to the suite. The familiar rooms don’t help. There’s no urge to explore and look around like one would have when first walking into such luxury. I know what all the rooms look like. I paced through them for hours while Remington was sleeping her fever away and I was battling myself with crawling back into bed with her.
“You seem out of sorts,” she says as she places her tiny purse on a side table before walking toward me. Her hands go to my chest, fingers spreading over the muscles there.
I know what I’m going to do. I knew it when I reopened the elevator, and I know it’s going to be amazing. There’s no way it can’t be, but I’ve crossed a line.
It’s no longer just my body begging for this woman. My head is on board one hundred percent. The only thing giving me pause is the fallout.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” I confess, my mouth low to her ear, the scent of her skin filling my nose. “You look amazing in this dress.”
I take a step back, sweeping my eyes up and down the length of her—something that had nearly killed me, trying to keep from doing it the second she walked down the stairs earlier. My friends can read me like a book. They know the score where she’s concerned, but I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of watching me drool on her parents’ marble floors.
“It’s not very comfortable.” She blinks up at me. “Help me get it off?”
Whoever says they don’t want to be tortured to death wasn’t standing in front of this woman. The back and forth and anticipation are killing me, but knowing where this night is going to lead makes me want to slow it down even more and savor every single second.
“Turn around.” The husk in my voice surprises me, but she listens. Her head turns, eyes peeking over her shoulder as I reach for the zipper at her back. The rash of the teeth releasing fills the silent room, and my cock pulses in eagerness.
She doesn’t drop the dress to her feet like I expect. She winks at me, clutching the fabric to her chest and starts to walk toward the bedroom.
“I’m going to get comfortable.”
Her cheeks are pink as if she’s a little shy right now, and I have to remember that the walking around half-naked in the beginning was all a ploy. The woman was comfortable in her skin because she knew she controlled the situation. She knew she wasn’t going to go a step further than she’d done before. Tonight is going to be a brand-new experience for her, and the unknown is making her a little uneasy.
I’m not going to step away, not going to leave this room without knowing what she feels like wrapped around my dick unless she puts a stop to things. Half of me wishes she would, wishes she wouldn’t torture me with that knowledge. The other half? That half has been on board since she walked up to me, nipples pebbled from the cool air in her house with that manipulative grin on her pretty face.
I’m left standing in the middle of the room watching her walk away. Comfortable? In what? A towel? It’s not like we packed bags in preparation for tonight. I pace, knowing that once she’s fully out of that dress, she’s naked for the rest of the night.
My hands dig into my pockets when shaking