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Chapter Seven

T ate

“Oh, wow,” Kelly says as she enters my hotel suite.

I let the door close softly behind me, then scan the room myself. Wow, indeed .

Astrid outdid herself.

A massive bouquet of deep red roses, matching the one I gave Kelly, has been placed on the center of the coffee table.

The lights have been slightly dimmed, creating a moodier backdrop for the flickering candles scattered on various furniture pieces.

Faint music—light but sexy—sets the perfect atmosphere.

Kelly moves gracefully across the room, and naturally, my eyes are glued to the curve of her hips beneath the soft black fabric of her dress.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous. My fingers have itched to dip beneath the hem—to feel her smooth skin against my palms—since I spotted her in front of Ruma.

There’s so much to explore with her, on her, and inside her, and I want to experience it all so badly I can taste it.

“Remember when we were on the plane and you asked me whose side I was on?” Kelly glances at me over her shoulder. “You or your boss’s?”

“Yeah.”

“I told you then I was neutral.” She winks. “But I’ve changed my mind. I’m on your boss’s side now.”

“Excuse me?” I chuckle, tossing the blueberry pie on the sofa. It hits the cushion with a thud. “That sounds like a challenge.”

She shrugs, peering across the darkened city. “This view is amazing—much better than my little window looking out on the rooftop of the building below.” She laughs softly. “If your company is ever hiring, remember me.”

I fight a smile. “I do have quite a bit of pull.” I step behind her, lowering my mouth to her ear again. “And I can be very persuasive.”

Goose bumps spread across her skin like wildfire. She hitches a breath, her body leaning against mine as if on instinct. I press my erection into her so she can feel how hard I am already.

“I have a feeling that you don’t have to work too hard to get what you want from people,” she says, moving her ass slowly against me.

I suck in a breath through my teeth.

Her perfume scents the air, taunting me with its warmth and sweetness. It triggers a need to touch, to connect. Every cell in my body is drawn to her, and I fear I’ll be unable to satisfy this craving.

But I don’t want to give in … yet.

Delayed gratification makes things so much better.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask, turning toward the small kitchenette near the door—needing to put some distance between us. My cock hates me right now . I remove two champagne flutes from a small tray that Astrid arranged. “I have champagne, and it looks like a bottle of red wine.”

An amused grin slips across her lips. “Do you always have a convenient bottle of champagne in your work suites? And a bouquet of roses?” She glances at the buds exploding from the vase in front of her. “And candles?”

“I do when I ask for them.”

She nods slowly, and I can see the wheels turning in her head.

I’m sure she’s wondering how the pieces of this puzzle fit together because I’m supposed to be a regular, but extremely handsome, guy.

But regular guys wouldn’t have the means to pull all this off.

I can do it because of my bank account and Astrid.

But I can’t tell Kelly that. I can’t answer the questions rolling around her brain because she’d learn my last name.

She’d know I’m a Brewer. While I’m not embarrassed by that, many people associate it with our dad now—and we’re guilty by association.

That’s one battle I don’t want to fight tonight.

“Let me get this straight,” she says, resting her hip against a chair. “You get to the hotel this afternoon, and find God knows how many roses. Then you order champagne before waiting outside of Ruma?”

“No.” I fill two flutes with champagne and then cross the room to her. “I also made reservations at Ruma, got in a quick workout, and worked a little.”

She takes a drink from me. “That’s a lot of work.”

“It’s already paid off.”

She lifts a brow, taking a sip.

“My objective was to see you again, Miss Kapowski. Anything beyond that is icing on the cake.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or concerned.”

My lips twitch. “Be both. It’s healthy to keep a small amount of skepticism about things.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call my level of skepticism small.”

“About me?”

She shrugs. “About you, yes. About men in general. Life. Everything, I suppose.”

“Want to tell me what that’s about?”

She pushes off the chair so she’s facing me squarely. “I came here for one reason, and that isn’t to discuss philosophical views on life.”

I set my drink on the end table.

Kelly looks up at me through her thick, dark lashes, peering into the depths of my soul.

I study her just as deeply. I wish I knew her better—what she likes, what makes her tick.

What are her points of vulnerability? What does she need from me?

I’ve never really asked myself these questions about a woman, and certainly not one I’ve known for less than twelve hours.

But that’s a thought for a different day.

“Can I ask you one question?” she breathes.

“Absolutely.”

“How did you know when to make the reservations at Ruma?”

“Simple. I reserved a table for the whole evening.”

“They let you do that?” Her eyes nearly fall out of her head. “I’ve worked in the restaurant business. That’s not a thing at a high-end establishment on a busy evening.”

It is when you’re me. “It was a thing tonight.”

She tears her gaze from mine, hiding a smirk as she moves to the wall of windows once again.

“How were you there the moment I arrived?” she asks, facing the glass.

“The lobby has a clear view of the corridor leading to Ruma.”

“So you just sat there and waited on me?”

“I mean, I stood some of the time.”

She looks over her shoulder, and the look she gives me could start a forest fire. The gentle curve of her lip hints at mischief. There’s a knowing glint in her eyes. Her head slightly tilts to the side in a playful invitation.

I remove my jacket and toss it onto a nearby chair.

“You stood some of the time?” She laughs softly. “Who sits in a lobby with an open reservation just hoping someone walks by?”

I hold her gaze. “Someone who knows what they want.”

“And you want me?”

“You have no fucking idea how much I want you.”

My voice is rough and gravelly, and her lips part as the sound reaches her. My body tenses with anticipation. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.

Kelly turns to face me. Candlelight dances in the reflection behind her, enveloping her in a warm glow. The amusement from moments ago is gone, and in its place is lust .

“I’ve had a very shitty two years,” she says, her gaze boring into mine. “I want you to make me forget about it. Think you can do that?”

Motherfucker .

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, smirking. Then I nod to the drink in her hand. “Finish it or get rid of it.”

She grins devilishly before downing the rest of the champagne.

I take the empty glass from her and place it next to mine.

“Now come here,” I say.

I take her hand in mine and pull her roughly to me. Her eyes go wide as she lands against my chest. Rapid breaths press her tits against me—round and perfectly sized for my mouth. Her dark eyes catch mine, wild and unmasked, like she’s struggling to anticipate my next move.

My body’s reaction to her is swift and violent—every inch buzzes with the need to take her. It requires every bit of restraint I can muster not to throw her over the back of the couch and fuck the hell out of her.

But that would be too fast. Too selfish. Too hedonistic.

I must stay in control.

I’ll take my pleasure tonight in pleasing her.

“I’d love to have you on your knees with my cock in your mouth,” I say, pressing the pad of my thumb across her lips.

She nips her teeth against my skin, and the nip pulses through every cell inside me.

Dammit.

“Turn around for me.” I grip her hips unabashedly, spinning her slowly until she’s facing the other way. “This is like unwrapping a present.”

I drag her zipper down her back in one slow and steady tug. It stops at the top of her ass.

My mouth waters as I lazily appraise the curve of her hip and flawless skin.

No panties.

Fuck .

My cock throbs so hard that I wince.

“Every time you touch me, I think I’m going to fall apart,” she says, her voice breathless.

“That’s exactly why you aren’t touching me. I’d explode.”

She shivers as the top of her dress falls forward. I grip her waist again, my heart thrashing at the contact. I press myself against her back and my cock strains to touch her, bulging against my pants.

Her head falls onto my shoulder, and she brings her arms above her head and drapes them over my shoulders to the back of my head. My hands slide to her front—across the dip of her hip, rounded stomach, and up to her full tits.

“Fuck,” I groan, the lace of her bra rough against my palms. “Has anyone told you how fucking sexy you are?”

“Not in a long time.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Then don’t.” She plays with the hair at the nape of my neck. “I want to come so bad.”

I glide my hands to her back. It takes some work, but I unclasp her bra without looking.

“You will,” I say as the lace falls to the floor. “Patience is a virtue.”

“The fact that I haven’t shoved you to the couch and climbed you like a tree demonstrates my patience,” she says, her eyes fluttering closed. “But I’ll warn you, it’s running low.”

I cup her tits in my hands, and the weight of them sends a shock of electricity to my dick.

“What’s your favorite way to come?” I ask, pressing a kiss to the crook of her neck.

She tilts her head, offering me full access. “I forget.”

“What do you mean?” How does a beautiful woman like this “forget” how she likes to come?

“It’s been a while.” She arches her back as soft moans escape past her lips. “I’ve been getting myself off for eighteen months. Before that, I was finishing the job myself most of the time, too.”

“Are you serious?”

She nods, grinding her ass against my cock.

I pick my jaw up and formulate a plan. While I don’t know her backstory, it’s obvious someone has screwed her over. That was why she hesitated to meet me tonight and didn’t answer any of my personal questions.

That’s also why she only wants to fuck.

I grin.

You’ve come to the right place, Kelly Kapowski .

I am going to rock her world so fucking hard that she’ll want even more than my number.

She’ll want me.