“Shit.” I whisper under my breath because if Brock is here, then Cohen isn’t far behind.
“You wanna get out of here?” Maxim asks, touching the base of my neck, the warmth of his palm making me shiver, and I spin around to face him and the table not even having to think about that question.
“That sounds like a great idea.” I grab my bag, and as soon as I stand, he takes my hand and keeps me close as he cuts across the room to the main entrance.
“My car is around back.” I stop him when we get outside and attempt to wiggle my fingers free from his.
“Is it safe where it is?”
“Yes, or I hope so.”
“Then I’m driving.” He pulls a set of keys from his pocket and lets go of my hand so he can place his palm against my lower back and lead me to the curb, where a sleek silver car is parked. “Get in,” he orders as the driver and passenger doors swing up into the air. I look from him to his car, then let out a breath and climb into the seat.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he gets in behind the wheel, the car seeming like it was built just for him.
“My hotel.”
“The bar at your hotel.”
“We can start there.” He meets my gaze as he turns over the engine, and my body vibrates. I tell myself it’s from the rumble of the engine and not anticipation.
When we arrive at the Noelle Hotel, I notice there are tons of people gathered out front, all dressed in evening wear.
“There was a wedding here today,” he tells me as he pulls into the valet area, and a few minutes later, he walks around to help me out, then hands his keys over to a young guy, telling him to be careful. As we walk inside, I smile when I spot a bride and groom standing amongst their guests, waiting to get onto the elevator. “Bar’s this way.” He takes hold of my wrist and walks us past the reception area toward the bar, which is crowded. “What would you like to drink?”
“A glass of Pinot please,” I say, and he lets me go and—maybe not surprisingly—gets the attention of the pretty bartender within seconds of reaching the counter.
“Are you here with the bride or the groom?” I drag my attention off Maxim at that question, and with one look, I can tell the man who asked me that has already had too much to drink. Pink is staining the tip of his nose and cheeks, making him look like a little kid who’s been out in the cold too long.
“Neither, I’m here with a friend.” I don’t point out that I’m not dressed for a wedding.
“Cool. Do you and your friend want to come party with me and my friends?”
“She doesn’t.”
I look at Maxim as he slides my glass of wine into my hand and start to smile up at him, then notice his lips are pressed into a firm, straight line.
“Oh.” The guy looks between us. “That’s cool. Night.”
“Night,” I say as he walks off, then focus on the man at my side. “It’s a little crowded down here.”
“We’ll go to my room, if that’s okay with you?”
I look around, not sure that going up to his room is smart—actually I know it’s not—but there is really no place for us to sit down here. “All right, sure,” I agree after a moment and he takes my wrist and leads the way to a second elevator that is less crowded than the one near the front entrance of the hotel. We get inside alone, and my heart trips all over itself as he presses the button for his floor.
When we reach his room, he lets us inside, and I take a sip of wine, then slip off my shoes and take off my jacket, resting it on the back of the couch. The room is large enough for an entire family, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the square footage matched that of my house.
“This is really nice.”
He doesn’t even look around. His attention is solely focused on me, making me feel hot and anxious and very aware that I’m alone with a man I hardly know, with a bed just a room away. “It is.” He waits until I take a seat, then comes to sit next to me. “Who was the man at the bar?”
“I don’t know. Just some drunk guy here for the wedding.”
“Not him, the one who made you look like you saw a ghost.”
Realizing he’s talking about Brock, I shrug. “Just someone I used to know.” He lifts his chin ever so slightly, then takes a sip from his glass as he studies me.
“Are you hungry?” The question seems innocent enough, but the way he asks and is looking at me is anything but.
“No.”
“Do I make you nervous?”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “Are we playing twenty questions?”
“Do I?”
“No,” I lie.
“Then come here.” There is no denying the command in his tone or the way my pulse flutters from the heated look in his gaze.
“If I get any closer, I’ll be sitting in your lap,” I point out, glancing at the small space between us.
“Would that be a problem?” His challenge-filled eyes lock with mine. Acting braver than I feel, I carefully move closer to him.
“Better?”
“For now.” His hand comes up, and he wraps a strand of my hair around his finger. “You know, Kenton warned me away from you.”
“What?” I laugh, sure that I heard him wrong.
“He said I needed to keep things between us professional.”
“He didn’t.” I take a sip of wine, wondering if he can see my pulse racing.
“He did.” His finger trails down the side of my neck, and goose bumps break out across my skin. “Then again, it’s not the first time he warned me away from you.”
“He told you to stay away from me before?”
“Him and my dad both did.” He grins. “But you’re not sixteen anymore, and I sure as fuck am not a kid.”
He’s not wrong there. My eyes roam over him as I take another sip of wine. “You were my first kiss.”
“I guessed that.”
“Hey, don’t be rude.” I frown at him and he chuckles.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t a great fucking kiss.”
“Honestly I don’t even remember it,” I lie.
“You don’t?” His hand slides to wrap around the back of my neck and I bite my lip while my stomach dances and his eyes lock with mine.
“You still have the prettiest mouth I’ve ever seen.” His thumb slides forward along my jaw, then the pad of it snags on my bottom lip. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty it is?”
“It’s been mentioned a time or two,” I say, and he makes a noise deep in the back of his throat right before he leans forward to nip my bottom lip almost punishingly, causing me to gasp and my core to clench.
“Finish your drink,” he orders, pulling away from me.
I do. In one gulp, I down the rest of my wine while he watches, and as soon as my glass is empty, he takes it from me, then leans forward to set it on the table, doing the same with his glass that was resting on the arm of the couch. When he leans back, he tugs me over to straddle his lap, resting my thighs on the outside of his. I rest my hands against his chest as his go to my ass, and I’m not sure if it’s the wine, but my flesh warms as he leans up to nip my bottom lip.