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I moan, and I absolutely cannot stop it. “Yes.”
His erection pushes gently into my backside. “Me too.”
“Oh God.” I feel the warm sensation of the water rinsing away the suds, stuck in a trance, sky high on pleasure. My nipples are tingling, along with every inch of my skin.
“Oh God,” he breathes in reply, nipping at my neck. I’m done for. I’m about to spin around and kiss him, eat him alive, my inhibitions lost, but the sound of a paper towel being snatched from the dispenser stops me. I snap my eyes open and find he’s patting the water away. “So wet,” he says quietly.
Then he steps back and leaves me to hold myself up alone. I’m struggling. A sheen of sweat coats his brow, his greeny-blue eyes misty. “Now will you come to dinner with me?”
“You came here to ask me to dinner?”
“No, I came here to see my lawyer on the third floor. Finding you here was just a bonus.” He raises his brows, and I’m suddenly on planet Earth again. In the ladies’. With a stranger. If hands could have sex, ours just did it.
I inwardly laugh, smoothing my hair back. If my cheeks were flushed when I entered the bathroom, they’re on fire now, along with the rest of my body.
“So?”
I still, my hand on my nape fixing my hair, my eyes on his. “I don’t think so.”Dangerous.Look what he just did. I was putty in his hands. I expect many women are.
“Not even after the best foreplay of your life?”
I laugh. “You’re quite cocky, aren’t you.”
“Tell me it wasn’t the best foreplay you’ve ever had.”
I grab my lunch and face him, fighting with everything I have to keep my body and voice steady.It was the best foreplay I’ve ever had!“It was good to see you.”
“Good?” he asks as I pass him, taking my wrist and pulling me to a stop. “Stop being so stiff.”
I tilt my head, dropping my eyes to his groin. “I believe you are the one who’s stiff.”
My retort delights him, his grin mischievous and fucking stunning. “Youwillbe having dinner with me.”
“You’re not my type.”
“And what’s your type?”
“Less forward.”
His hands come up in surrender, and he takes one step back. “Life’s too short to fuck around playing cat-and-mouse games, Amelia.”
“I don’t play games at all.” I leave the bathroom before I get myself into something I’m wholly unprepared for, walking on wobbly legs to the elevator. I call Abbie on my way, my fingers shaky on the screen. She doesn’t answer, so I try again. Still no answer.Come on, Abbie, I need you!
I text her.
Answer, answer, answer!
I dial again, and this time she answers on a hushed whisper. “What’s happened? Are you okay?”
“Oh my God, Abbie,” I wail, hitting the call button for the elevator, looking over my shoulder to the ladies’ bathroom. “He’s here.”
“What?”
“The man from Arlington Hall. I just grabbed some lunch and spotted him in the lobby. He was here to see his lawyer.”
“Shit, did you speak to him?”
I laugh. “I think our hands just had sex.”