Page 16 of Empire State Enemies
I chuckle as my hands skim her breasts, feeling her nipples tighten beneath the silky fabric. “Don’t play coy, angel. You know damn well who I am.”
Then again, maybe she doesn’t. She’s not a regular here—that much is clear just from looking at her.
“Should I?” she fires back, a tense smirk playing on her lips. “You some kinda hero who cures diseases or saves the rainforest in your spare time?”
If fucking only.
Her sassy words hit a nerve.
I grip her throat, mouth finding her ear as her breath hitches. “I’m no hero, sorry to disappoint you. But you don’t want a hero right now, do you?”
In a move that’s surprisingly smooth considering the sheer amount of booze flooding my system, I lift her up and carry her into the nearest stall, the door slamming shut behind us.
My hotel bathrooms are a sinner’s paradise—muted mood lighting, mirrors to appreciate every angle. Perfect for encounters like this.
I set her down, her heels clicking on the tiles. Her breath catches as I press her to the chilled glass wall, aligning myself to her soft curves. I slap both palms to the wall above her, caging her in place.
She tilts her chin up, almost in challenge. I take a moment to study every detail of those captivating eyes, reading each flicker of fear and excitement.
She’s different. . . And different is distracting.
I trail one hand down her tiny waist, silk gliding under my fingers. The other stays braced beside her head.
“You sure about this?” I murmur, a part of me wondering if I’ve misread the situation.
Something’s off.
I can see it in those eyes of hers, they say more than just “let’s get busy.” There’s something else going on. Maybe she’s got a man waiting at home. Maybe she thinks this’ll make a good kiss-and-tell.
Then again, maybe tonight, with the burn of alcohol dulling the edges, I don’t give a damn about her motivation.
In response, she fists my shirt and crushes her soft lips to mine once again.
Maybe all she wants is a good fuck.
Either way, that fiery response is the only green light I need. I kiss her hard and rough, determined to block out anything beyond this moment and these four walls. No tortured thoughts allowed, just skin on skin. Right now, I need to feel good.
And damn, she wants it as bad as I do. Her hands roam urgently, nails raking the muscles of my back before gripping my ass like she’s never had a proper man before.
With a low, approving growl I wrench that flimsy black dress up to her hips.
Yeah, reality can fucking wait.
My thumb teases along her soaked panties, feeling how ready she is for me. My cock strains against my jeans, desperate to be set free.
She trembles under my touch, squirming like she wants to climb the damn walls.
I push aside the lace barrier and slide two fingers into her tight pussy, relishing how wet she is for me.
But then she shoves me back hard, catching me off guard and causing me to stumble against the wall.
“Are you okay?” I rasp, blinking a few times as I try to clear the haze in my head.
“Shit! No!” she blurts out, her eyes widening in shock. “What were you thinking? That I’d sleep with you in a hotel bathroom?”
“What the hell?” I stare at her as she wrenches her dress back into place with frantic tugs.
“I’m out of here.”
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