Page 5 of Just Like You (Square Mile Rogues #2)

None of those options were any good because I just stood there as he leaned in. One small inch at a time, his eyes fixed on my mouth. Then my eyes, as if he was asking for my permission. For the record, he had none. No consent. Nothing.

So why wasn’t I…doing anything?

Because he kissed me. Right there and then, a soft and gentle kiss that somehow managed to blast straight through my bones.

The kind of kiss you read about in romance novels, where girls would lift their legs and squeal in delight.

I did neither, by the way, thank you very much. Instead I seemed to be paralysed as he pulled away, just enough that he could catch my gaze. Him. Staring at me.

Me? I was clearly being an absolute tool. Because I flung my arm around his neck and brought his mouth back down on mine, and then he kissed me, with all the fervour and ridiculousness this situation deserved.

A perfectly dirty kiss where his groin slammed against my stomach, where there was definite action going on, and then he grabbed my wrist and slammed it into the door over my head.

For fuck’s sake .

Any minute now, one of the doors along the corridor would open and someone would catch us in the act. And here was a maid, right on cue, wheeling a trolley around the corner.

Damn it.

Thank God.

Or maybe not. Because I wasn’t done. I wasn’t half done with this guy. An apology? Was he seriously thinking that would be enough?

If I hadn’t been so tired, maybe I would have thought clearly. But I wasn’t thinking at all, and got my keycard out and tapped it against the lock and pushed the door open with my hip, my arm still around his neck.

Then I let go.

“Your bag,” I said, nodding at his fancy luggage on the floor.

“Oh,” he replied, like he knew exactly what I was doing. Extending a temporary invite to a neutral place where…

Shit.

Here I was standing in my hotel room, my dirty laundry spread out on the bed for everyone to see.

And him. Slowly placing his bags on the floor and then rising back up as the door clicked shut behind him.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice portraying a wobble.

Consent? What was this? And what the fresh hell was I getting myself into here ?

This wasn’t the first time I’d hooked up with a stranger… I shook my head violently and held my hands out in some kind of strange spasm, trying to compose myself.

“Yes… No…”

“Hey,” he said quietly, like he was a serial killer trying to calm me about the idea of sudden death. For the record, I would probably let him because when he looked at me like he was now?

I had clearly lost my mind.

“We don’t have to do anything. I just… You’re gorgeous.”

Was I?

Apparently it didn’t matter since I was suddenly back to clinging around his neck and mauling his mouth.

My arms clawing at his shoulders as he slowly lifted me up, his large hands now cupping my arse.

My feet no longer bearing weight as my legs crossed behind his back, like this was a choreographed dance we both knew. As natural as breathing.

And there went my case off the bed onto the floor, and now I was suddenly bouncing on the bed as he crawled on top of me. His mouth back on mine, his hands almost brutally slamming my wrists down over my head.

I should have been frightened. I should have been terrified, but strangely I was turned on, to the point where I felt lightheaded.

Weirded out.

Horrified at myself. But then who was I kidding?

My hoodie got zipped down and yanked over my shoulder as his mouth latched on to the skin over my collarbone.

Hard kisses on my neck. My dick straining in those joggers that all of a sudden felt too freaking warm.

Too restrained against the heat surging through my bones.

The weight of him on top of me was crushing, another thing that should have set off my self-preservation instincts. Instead they made me try to wrap my legs around him tighter, my body revelling in the friction he gave me. The hardness of him against me dialling me up another notch.

Ridiculous.

Horny.

Ludicrously hot, to the point where I was sweating yet cold. Where his lips left my skin, and I shivered, wanting them straight back.

I got my wish. Over and over again. Then he rose up, ditching that jacket. My fingers made swift work of the buttons on his shirt, but he grew impatient and ripped the last one. Underneath, a cotton undershirt. Goddamn, this man and his layers.

“I need you naked,” I demanded.

“So impatient, Julian.”

I shivered when he called me that. Loved his breath on my skin. The weight of him back as he shimmied out of his trousers, just enough that I could rip his underwear over that delightful arse.

He was big. Huge, everywhere. Shoulders for days. Legs. And a cock that I didn’t dare go eye to eye with in case I chickened out.

My arse twitching .

Goddamn it. Freaking hell.

Not where I thought I would end up this afternoon.

Evening. Middle of the night, whatever the time was in the time zone my head was in.

I’d clearly lost the plot as he once again lifted off me, finding himself on all fours on top of me as I escaped the last of my clothes, like we’d planned this.

Like he moved and I instinctively followed. Dancing a dance we’d known…

What was I on about? I let a giggle escape and caught the smile on his face.

He looked happy. What was wrong with me? More likely, what the hell was wrong with Kieron Andrieu?