“If you don’t want me, now’s your chance to say so,” I tell her.
“You know I want you,” she says, much to my profound relief. I didn’t think she’d admit it so easily. “But I never do this sort of thing.”
There’s only one possible response to that.
“What you and I have done before is irrelevant to what you and I are going to do with each other tonight.”
Her eyes unfocus as she thinks this over, then zero in on my face once she decides.
“And what’s that?” she asks, a soft and secret smile curving her lips.
I stare at her for a beat or two, lost.
Swear to God, I am going to fucking eat this woman alive.
“You’re going to wait for me in the lobby while I book us a room upstairs,” I tell her. “When we get up there, you’re going to let your hair down so I can see it. You’re going to let yourself go and have fun with me. You’re going to be a tiger. All night. And I’m going to do my best to make you come harder than you’ve ever come in your life. No questions asked. No regrets.” I pause, giving my words time to sink in. “Deal?”
A subtle but delightful shiver runs through her.
“Deal,” she says.
3
Damon
I get a suite, humbled and unpleasantly surprised to discover at this late stage of both my dating and professional lives—I’m thirty-four and have a net worth that has eight zeros before the decimal point—that I am not above throwing my money around to impress a woman I want. But she’s worth it because she has both intrigued me and made me laugh, two things no woman has done in longer than I care to remember. Why take chances with this overwhelming feeling of excitement that seems so determined to tackle me to the ground? Why not do everything I can to make sure she sticks around for a while?
The registration process seems to take forever, especially because I keep one eye on her where she sits over in the lobby waiting for me. Half of me fears that she’ll bolt if I let my guard down and look away, but she seems patient. Possibly even as determined as I am. And when the key is in my hand and I give her a look, she meets me at the elevator.
We stand side by side, anticipation humming between us.
The doors slide open. We step inside, blessedly alone. I press the button and retreat to one side, where I lean and shove my hands deep into my pockets, not trusting myself to touch her yet. For one thing, there are cameras everywhere. For another, my self-control dangles by a frayed thread. Unless Superman shows up to help me out in the next thirty seconds, this train will take off once it gets started, and there’ll be no stopping it.
She retreats to the other side and faces me, also leaning. Her gaze touches my eyes. Hovers over my lips, which, of course, prompts me to involuntarily lick them. For my part, I notice the way her breath speeds up, making the lush curves of her breasts strain against the front of her dress where it dips. Her dewy mouth. That shiny hair.
Evidently my thoughts are louder than I realize. Without breaking eye contact or smiling, she reaches up and pulls out a pin. Gives her head a little shake. And produces a gleaming cascade of silk with highlights of red and gold, orange and brown and combinations in between in colors I don’t know.
With that, she transforms herself from a beautiful woman into a goddess.
I wonder, with a fleeting twinge of despair, why she’s here with me when she could do so much better. Then I wonder how long it will take her to figure that out and bail on me.
But she’s here now. And I’m not one to question good fortune when it smacks me in the face.
When the doors slide open, she raises a brow at me. I tell her the room number. She leads the way with long, purposeful strides, allowing me to enjoy the stellar view of her tight ass and toned legs. A woman who looks like this is an athlete. Another detail about her—like her last name and country of residence—that I’m determined to nail down and examine at the earliest possible opportunity. As for right now, we’re almost at the room, her swinging hair is within easy reach and I have better things to do.
When we arrive at the door, all bets are off.
She glances over her shoulder, shooting me an impatient look. I take my hands out of my pockets and give her the key, freeing up my hands to help themselves to hanks of that fragrant and silky hair at her nape. The strands are long and thick, warm against her scalp, and I can’t get enough as I press my body against the back of hers. She lets loose with a hum of approval that accelerates my surging blood. Then she opens the door with steadier hands than mine.
We stagger inside the suite, where I loosen my grip just long enough to shrug out of my jacket, drop it to the floor and flip a switch so we can see where we’re going. Then I wrap her up again from behind, my greedy hands seeking out breasts and belly, hips, pussy and everything I can reach in between while I steer her down the hall toward the bedroom and nip her neck, driving her into a frenzy.
She whispers to me the whole time, words and hints of words that are more encouragement than I need.
“Damon.”
“Ah, God…”
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I need your hands on me—”
Her heated response to everything I do drives me out of my freaking mind. I turn her around when we arrive at the edge of the bed, eager to taste that gorgeous mouth. She’s right there with me, already opening as she wraps one arm around my neck and the other around my head. She tunnels her fingers through my hair, standing on her tiptoes and straining to get closer as she scratches my scalp with her nails.
Funny how I told her to be a tiger. I didn’t count on her turning me into a mindless animal.
This is no tentative first kiss while we get the feeling of each other. We’re both too hot and urgent for that. There’s no time to pretend we’re not desperate to make each other come. Besides, we fit and move together perfectly. She turns her head the way I need her to. Grants me absolute access to her lush tongue and mouth. Surges and retreats to my rhythm. Wraps a leg around my waist before I can demand that she do that very thing. Moans when I knead her ass and thighs. Lets me go and backs up a step just as I experience the frantic thought that I can’t wait another second.
Not one more second.
A long beat or two passes while we stare at each other and try to catch our breath. We’re both trembling. The look on her face is an absolute reflection of the way I feel, which is shellshocked.
Shellshocked.
I watch with a wary new respect. It dawns on me that I need to give this woman a wide berth before she does me some serious damage. Less than an hour into our relationship, whatever it may turn out to be, and she’s made my hands shake, my mouth dry out and my thoughts scatter. God knows what will be left of me after I fuck her.
Probably just a lump of ruined flesh and a stray pubic hair or two.
It also dawns on me that I couldn’t care less. If that’s the price I need to pay, then let me grab my wallet and max out my credit cards.
“You’re rocket fuel.” Shit. Even my voice is ruined. “You know that?”
“Only because you’re the ignition switch.” She flashes a smug smile. “And I thought I heard you say something about playing with a tiger?”