Page 48 of Infatuation (The Josh & Kat Trilogy #1)

Thirty-Four

Kat

The elevator arrives and Josh pulls me inside, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing. An orchestral version of “Take on Me” by A-ha greets us in the enclosed space.

The doors begin closing and Josh lunges at me, making my clit zing with anticipation—but just before the doors slide shut, a hand stops their progress and an elderly couple steps into the elevator car.

Josh leans abruptly away from me, clasps his hands in front of his crotch, and looks down at the floor of the elevator.

I straighten up, feeling light-headed and weak-kneed.

“Hello,” the lady says. She’s got silver hair and she’s wearing a simple sundress.

“Hello,” I say brightly to the woman and her husband, trying to distract attention away from Josh and his pained expression.

“Are you two having fun?” the woman asks.

“Definitely. You?”

“Oh, yes. We always have fun in Vegas. We play the slots and see a show—always a good time.”

“Have you been winning?”

The lady laughs. “No.”

I look at Josh. His head is bowed. His hands are still clasped in front of his pants.

“What show did you see this time?” I ask, my heart racing.

Josh shifts his weight next to me.

“Blue Man Group,” the woman replies, her eyes darting to Josh and back to me. “What have you been up to, honey?”

“Oh,” I say. “Nothing much. The usual Vegas stuff—a little craps, Cirque Du Soleil, plotting to overthrow the evil empire and save the world, bringing a stubborn man to his knees—you know, blah, blah, blah.”

The woman chuckles.

The older couple’s floor dings and they step out, and the minute they’re gone, Josh leans toward me aggressively, like he’s gonna fuck me right here and now.

But a dad with two young kids in swim gear immediately gets onto the elevator, causing Josh to step back and clasp his hands in front of his crotch again.

“We’re going up, ” Josh barks out, his eyes like lasers.

“Oh, whoops, thanks,” the dad says, putting his arm out to stop the elevator doors from closing. “Come on, guys, step out,” the dad says, glaring at Josh. “Daddy messed up. We’ve gotta go down to get to the pool. Sorry about that, folks.”

“No problem—have fun,” Josh says, obviously trying to make amends for how loudly he just barked at the guy.

Wow. I’ve never seen Josh look more like his brother than he does in this moment. If this is how Jonas looks at Sarah on a regular basis, then it’s no wonder she’s suddenly been acting like a cat in heat.

The dad and his kids step off the elevator and the doors close behind them—and Josh freaking attacks me.

His lips are on mine. His hands are all over me, exploring my breasts and ass and back.

Oh lordy, he smells so fucking good. His tongue is sensual and confident, his lips utterly delicious.

His hand moves confidently between my legs, under my sundress, right to the crotch of my panties, where his fingers confidently stroke me.

I pull back slightly and grip the bulge in his pants as his fingers slide over the fabric covering my clit.

“Oh my God, Kat,” he murmurs as I vigorously stroke the hardness under his slacks.

“I’m dying ,” I breathe, my body bursting into flames.

The elevator doors open and we tumble out together, still kissing and groping each other. We bang into the wall with a loud thud but keep going, both of us moaning and laughing at the same time as we work our way down the short hallway toward Josh’s room.

“You have a condom?” I mumble into his lips. Oh my God, my body’s already beginning to warp and twist from deep inside.

“Mmm hmm.”

We’re a frantic tumble of lips and fingers and limbs, hurtling together voraciously toward Josh’s suite, until— boom !—our writhing bodies literally crash into a cart filled with towels and cleaning supplies right outside Josh’s room.

“No,” Josh growls. “No, no, no.”

He grabs my hand and yanks me into his suite, a low rumble simmering in his throat—and, yep, sure enough, a maid is in the bedroom across the large suite, tucking a sheet.

“We don’t need cleaning service today,” Josh shouts at the poor woman across the large suite, making her freeze mid-tuck.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” she says. “I was just finishing up this—”

“Thank you,” Josh says, his tone adamant. “You can go. Please .”

The maid looks flustered. “Yes, sir.” She exits the bedroom and heads toward the front door.

“Thank you so much,” Josh says, obviously trying to soften his tone.

“Do you want clean towels before I—”

“ Nope . We’re good. Thank you so much.” He squeezes my hand.

The woman presses her lips together and beelines out the front door as fast as her short legs will carry her, obviously surmising exactly what we’ve barreled into Josh’s hotel room to do.

“Oh my fucking God,” Josh says the moment the door shuts behind the woman.

He hastily reaches behind my back and unzips my dress.

“I’ve waited my entire life to get inside you, Katherine Ulla Morgan.

” He kisses my neck and peels my dress off my shoulders.

“Nothing’s gonna stop me now—this hotel could crumble to the fucking ground and they’d find me under the rubble, my dick still hard and inside you. ”

I laugh.

He pulls my unzipped dress down past my torso, over my hips, to the floor, sliding his palms along my bare skin as he goes, and before I even know what’s happening, my dress and bra are on the floor, his tongue is in my mouth, my nipples are rock hard, and he’s backing me against a nearby table, his hard-on behind his pants grinding into my crotch.

His mouth leaves mine and devours my neck, collarbone, breasts, nipples.

He bites my left nipple and sucks on it feverishly, and I throw my head back, my entire body convulsing and bursting into flames at his mouth’s voracious assault.

Holy shit, this feels incredible. I can’t remember the last time I wanted a man this bad, if ever.

He kisses my stomach, swirling his tongue around the piercing on my belly button, and then moves on to my hips and pelvis, his lips and tongue giving me goose bumps of pure pleasure.

I grab and pull feverishly at the collar of his shirt, wordlessly begging him to take off his clothes so I can press my body against his nakedness, but he ignores my implicit request, abruptly kneeling down and leveling his mouth with my crotch.

“I couldn’t hear you well enough when you came on the dance floor—the music was too loud.

I wanna hear every little sound you make when you come. ”

Oh. I shudder with arousal.

He slides my G-string off my hips, his fingertips caressing my hipbones, his warm lips laying soft kisses on the flesh just below my belly button. When he suddenly and fervently pulls my pelvis into his face, my entire lower abdomen tightens sharply and begins to burn.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, his warm, wet tongue swirling around the perimeter of my crotch.

I grip the table behind me, bracing myself for the delectable moment when his tongue is finally gonna land right where I want it most. Oh God, I’m desperate for him to take my throbbing clit into his mouth and suck on it like a lollipop.

He’s getting closer and closer to ground zero, but he’s drawing it out, teasing me, sending me into a frenzy.

I prop my left thigh onto his shoulder, straining my pelvis toward him, jerking like a dog in heat.

I grab his head and yank his hair and he moans into my crotch, puffing warm air onto my sensitive flesh.

Finally, after what seems like forever, his warm tongue flickers onto my clit and begins lapping at me voraciously, eliciting a sound from me like I’ve just placed my hand on a hot stove.

I press myself into him violently, desperately, jolting, gripping the table behind me, my pelvis jerking rhythmically with the hungry movements of his lips and tongue.

“Oh, hell yeah,” I breathe. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Oh God, I’m beginning to clench forcefully from deep inside. This is incredible. This man right here gets the job done right.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growls from between my legs. “So fucking good. ”

As his mouth continues working my tip, he slides his fingers deep inside me—and that’s all my body needs to release forcefully.

In an instant, pleasure is slamming into me like a hurricane—I’m twisting, warping, shuddering around his fingers, all the while grasping urgently at his head between my legs.

“Josh,” I sputter. “Oh my God, yes .” I claw at him, gasping, gripping the hair on the back of his head, his ears, cheeks, neck, yanking at the fabric of his shirt—doing whatever it takes to survive the brutality of the pleasure I’m experiencing.

Josh abruptly takes my thigh off his shoulder and stands up to his full height, his eyes blazing like blue coals.

He licks his glistening lips and begins slowly unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine.

I’m dripping down my thighs with my arousal, jerking my pelvis in anticipation of the delicious fucking I’m about to take.

Oh my God. My clit is vibrating with a low, insistent hum, rippling with faint aftershocks from my orgasm.

As Josh continues unbuttoning his shirt, I reach down and stroke the bulge in his pants, reveling in the delectable hardness of him against my fingertips. I can’t think straight. All I can do is want .

He peels off his shirt and tosses it onto the floor and I’m treated to the same panty-soaking view of his muscled, tattooed torso I beheld in the hallway after Reed’s party. Only this time, he’s even sexier than he was to me then, if that’s possible.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, ogling him. “Oh my God. ”

Josh flashes a cocky grin. “I know, but feel free to call me Josh .”

Even through my intense arousal, I laugh.

“Oh man, I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Party Girl,” he growls. “I’m gonna fuck you and your fucking Hyphen, baby.”