Page 103 of Manhattan State of Mind

A low chuckle leaves him. “I assure you I do both of those things naked. But you’re not wrong—I always have the bottom line in mind.”

“But I suspect there’s more to you than a tough exterior and profit margins. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a closet romantic.”

His mouth quirks. “I’m intense about everything I do, be it business or love. When I’m in love, I’m all in. I worship my woman. She becomes the center of my world, and I give her everything I’ve got, every single day.”

My heart’s tap dancing now. Like Riverdance on speed. “I think I might need some examples. Ideally a demo.”

He chuckles again. A deep sexy rumble that slides into my underwear.

“I’m afraid those would be inappropriate to share in present company. But if you’re asking for a private demonstration…”

He spins me again, this time pulling me flush against him.

I gasp at the feel of his hard body, the evidence of his arousal pressed into my belly.

“Keep pushing, and you just might get one. Because if you were mine, I’d make you come all night long until you begged me to stop. Then I’d carry you into the shower and wash every inch of your body, making sure to tease and caress each curve until you’re weak in my arms. I’d wash your hair before wrapping you in a T-shirt of mine, then hold you close until you drift asleep. Come morning, I’d still be holding you.”

Holy shit. My face is burning hot now, and my ovaries are screaming at me to hump him right here on the dance floor.

“How does that sound to you, Lucy?”

My breath catches. The sane part of my brain is screaming “Abort mission!” while the rest of me has already checked into a hotel room upstairs, peeled off my dress, and is lying seductively on the bed.

He gives a low chuckle as we sway together. “A bit too much honesty for you, huh? I’ll keep myself in check for now.” His voice drops even lower. “But damn you look sexy when you blush.”

His hands slide lower until they find the curve of my backside as he pulls me tight against his body. That hard bulge is impossible to ignore.

I stifle a gasp, heat pooling in my core.

Then, with a growl that’s pure animalistic lust, he breathes, “Don’t worry, I won’t bite too hard,” into my ear.

My breath catches as he does just that—pushes away my hair and starts planting kisses on my neck.

A million warning bells ring. I should stop him. This is dangerous. We’re in public. Everyone knows who JP is.

Instead, I arch into his touch, silently begging for more. I feel his stubble, his firm lips pressing against me, the tingles rushing through me like electricity.

My thighs clench together involuntarily as sensations run rampant throughout my body.

“Let’s take a breather,” he murmurs as he comes up again.

I nod, completely incapable of doing anything else but blindly following behind him as he leads me off the dancefloor, wondering if everyone can see his massive boner.

I follow him silently as we descend the winding staircase, my body thrumming in anticipation with every step.

What’s his plan here?

“Mind your step,” he warns gruffly, clasping my hand in his.

We reach the end of the staircase and he leads me down the corridor with the skill of someone who knows this place inside out, which shouldn’t surprise me, since he does own it.

Are we going to have sex?

My heart skitters in my chest when he suddenly wheels around and yanks me into a tiny cloakroom. With one powerful shove, he slams the door shut behind us, plunging us into semi-darkness.

Caught off guard is the understatement of the year. I gulp in air and stumble back until I’m pinned against the wall by his thighs. His strong arms cage me, hands bracing on either side of my head.

In the dimmer light of the cloakroom, his chiseled features take on a dangerous edge.