Page 20 of Kiss & Collide (Racing Hearts #2)

“T hey put us up in a good hotel,” Violet remarked as they rode up in the elevator to Chase’s room a couple of hours later. There were mirrors on all four sides, throwing back the reflection of the two of them standing side by side in tense silence.

There shouldn’t be any nerves involved in this at all. They’d done this so many times.

She couldn’t figure out why this felt different.

Maybe she’d just spent too much time around him today, without a race to focus on, or Pinnacle to deal with.

Just … them. Plus, she’d told him about Ian.

She didn’t tell anybody about Ian. She hadn’t even told Mira about him, not in detail anyway.

What had possessed her to tell Chase, of all people?

Maybe it was that Chase met Ian? And in some weird way, she felt like she owed him some small explanation. Which was absurd. You only owed explanations to people you were in relationships with.

The elevator dinged on his floor.

“After you,” he murmured. “Room four twenty-six.”

She walked out ahead of him, feeling his eyes on her back like a physical touch. Like earlier on the Pont des Arts, when he’d touched her, a casual, affectionate … caress .

Inside the room, it was dark, but the curtains were open, letting in a wash of city light.

“You’re right, it’s a good view,” she murmured, dropping her bag inside the door.

She heard a rustle as he stepped up behind her. Then he put his hands on her hips and turned her around. Before she knew what he was doing, his hand had come up to the back of her neck, cradling her in that same spot, as his mouth came down on hers.

Part of her wanted to pull away. She was already feeling crowded and antsy and too close.

But then his tongue was in her mouth and she just …

forgot all that. He was honestly such a good kisser.

And his tongue … it was wicked, what he could do with that tongue.

She reached for his shoulders, sliding one hand up into his hair, that gorgeous hair she’d been staring at all day.

His free hand slid down to her ass and grabbed her, pulling her hips in tight against his.

Then, as he held her in his tight grip, he began walking her backward across the room. He didn’t stop until she felt the cool press of glass against her shoulder blades. He grasped her hips and spun her around. Paris lay out below her in glittering lights. Her palms spread out against the glass.

“I promised,” he murmured in her ear. Then she felt the scrape of his teeth across the side of her neck.

Her head fell back against his shoulder and her eyes fluttered closed as one of his hands came up to cup her breast. Yes, this was what she wanted. She wanted to get lost in this mindless pleasure.

“Eyes open. What do you see?”

She did as he asked. “The Eiffel Tower,” she whispered. His fingers slid up under the hem of her skirt.

She heard the rasp of his zipper lowering, the rustle of him retrieving a condom.

“And what do you want?” he asked.

“I want you to keep your promise and fuck me.”

He shoved her skirt up over her ass and slid her thong to the side. At the first nudge of his cock, she moaned. Then he pressed forward, pressing her breasts against the glass as he filled her. He grunted in satisfaction.

“Can you see it?”

“Yes.” She sighed, keeping her eyes on the glittering Eiffel Tower as he started to thrust into her. One of his hands gripped her hip, the other slid down her arm, covering her hand, and then he laced his fingers with hers against the glass. He’d never done that before.

“So good,” he murmured. “You feel so good, baby.”

Heat was building, sending her so out of her head that she didn’t even react to his pet name. Somehow he had her on the edge of coming already. He released her hip and reached around in front until he found her clit.

“Is that good?”

“Yes,” she whispered. It must have been the top of the hour, because just then, the Eiffel Tower began to shimmer, lights flickering all up and down the length of it.

Her climax started low in her belly and flooded down through her shaking thighs and up through her chest and out through her arms, to where he still held her hand pressed to the glass. She moaned as it washed through her.

He thrust hard against her and then groaned, burying his face in her shoulder.

She slumped against the glass, finally closing her eyes.

Behind her, she heard Chase stripping off his clothes.

Then his hands were on her, pulling her blouse up over her head, pushing her skirt and her thong down her legs.

She started to turn, to face him, but instead he crouched and lifted her.

“What—”

“Just quit fighting it so hard, Violet.” He laid her on the bed and before she could move, he came down over her, his mouth on hers again.

She should probably leave now. She’d gotten what she came for.

But his kiss was hard to quit, and he was relentless, kissing her deep and endless, as his hands stroked up and down her body.

He knew what she liked, tugging on her nipples and rolling them until she was writhing and moaning under him.

Her hands were grasping at him, shaping the hard curves of his shoulders, gripping his flexed biceps.

And then he was sliding down her body, pressing her legs apart. Before he even touched her, she was panting in anticipation. He gave her no time to get ready, and no time to build up to it. He just put his mouth on her and pinned her hips down when she would have bucked underneath him.

“Oh, god.”

“That’s it,” he murmured against her, and the heat of his breath started her whole body shaking. “Come on, baby.”

In moments she was coming again, gasping as it roared through her, harder and deeper than the first time.

As she floated down from it, she felt him move up her body and sheathe himself again.

He slid an arm under her shoulders and cradled her close as he pushed into her.

His other arm came under her, holding her tightly against him.

Then … he kissed her. His hand came up to cup her face, a gesture that felt tender, personal, all the things they weren’t supposed to be to each other.

He kept that hand on her face, ducking his head to whisper in her ear, “Violet …”

The intimacy of it all made her heart stutter.

Was this panic? Or some other sensation she didn’t dare put a name to?

But then her body was responding to his again, winding up tighter and tighter as his did, too.

And then her climax was rolling through her once again, and there was nothing more in her head but him. Just him.

Violet blinked against the light and cracked one eye. Bright morning sunlight flooded the room. Rumpled sheets, clothes on the floor. Through the window, rooftops and the Eiffel Tower. She lifted a hand to shield her face, and she felt the stirring in bed beside her.

With a start, her eyes flew all the way open. Chase. Sleeping next to her. Chase’s bed. Chase’s hotel room. Fuck, she fell asleep. Fuck , she spent the night.

She never spent the night.

His arm was slung across her waist as he slept on his stomach.

His face was turned toward her, pressed against the pillow.

She glanced briefly at him … at the wreck of his black hair against the white pillow, at his thick, black lashes against his tawny cheekbones, at the dark scruff shadowing his jaw, at his beautiful lips, slightly parted as he breathed slow and steady …

Her eyes jerked away, back to the window …

the window he’d pressed her against as he …

Oh, god, she couldn’t look at him in the bright light of morning. This was weird enough already.

Carefully, she slid out from under his arm, trying not to wake him.

Once she’d made it out of bed without waking him, she quietly snatched her clothes off the floor, retrieved her bag from where she’d left it by the door, and escaped into the bathroom.

One glance in the mirror brought the whole night back to her in vivid detail.

Last night … dinner, talking, walking through Paris, standing on the bloody Pont des Arts looking at the river … Had they just gone on a fucking date ?

Hurriedly she pulled her clothes back on, splashed water on her face, and put her hair back in a ponytail.

Then she grabbed her phone to check the time.

The last thing they needed was to miss their flight to Milan.

It was early still. Time enough for her to escape back to her room and shower off last night.

If she stood under the hot water long enough, maybe it would wash her memories away, too.

Then she noticed a new message. It was from Cam.

Talked to Madison. She’s on board. What does Chase think?

Her heart was pounding and her head felt thick, like a hangover although she’d barely drunk anything last night. She could still feel him all over her, touching her, holding her, kissing her.

Her hands were trembling as she typed out a reply to Cam.

Chase is on board, too. I’ll call to work out the details.

Then, as quietly as possible, so she wouldn’t wake him, she slipped out of Chase’s room and fled.