Page 14

This was probably a bad idea. I’m full of sour candy and a little spooked from the movie I just watched with Anya—before she passed out three-quarters through it with a bag of gummy worms on her stomach. Hopefully, she won’t even notice I’m gone. I don’t really know what got into me, I just couldn’t stop thinking about Anton.

He spoiled me earlier, buying me all of those shoes I definitely couldn’t afford on my own, and I feel like I didn’t thank him properly because Anya was so casual about the whole thing. He regularly blows thousands of dollars on shoes without a second thought. Which, maybe he does. His life is so unlike my own that I can’t really imagine it, but hotels like this and shopping sprees give me a little glimpse.

I hear him move on the other side of the door, the lock clicks and it swings open, revealing him in nothing but a pair of joggers. Bare chest. Mussed hair. Sleepy eyes. He looks like every girl’s morning-after dream.

“What happened to the sleepover?” He holds the door for me to come in.

There’s music playing over the stereo system, some rock band I’m not familiar with, and I enjoy this glimpse into how he spends his free time. There’s work Anton, there’s partying Anton, but this feels more private, more like how he might be at home.

“Anya passed out partway through the movie, so I thought I’d stop by to see if you were still awake.” Then I realize this might give him the wrong idea. A late-night call to his hotel room kind of screams booty call. “I just wanted to thank you for what you did earlier, buying me those shoes. It was way too much, especially for my boss.”

I hover in the kitchen, not sure if I should stay or go. Maybe it’s better if I walk back to Anya’s room right now.

“Because that’s all I am to you. Your boss,” he repeats my words back at me, and I realize how flimsy they sound. He’s so much more than my boss, no matter how hard I try to keep the wall between us.

“It’s all you should be,” I say, backing up against the counter just to put some more space between us. “It’s too complicated if we’re anything more than that. This job is important to me. I don’t have the kind of money you have. I can’t afford to risk a job like this, one that could make or break my future, over some attraction.”

His joggers are slung low across his hips, and that ridge line taper vanishing between the waistband is so distracting. There’s no safe place for my eyes to land, really, not when there’s that muscled stomach and bare chest just above. And above that? The look he’s giving me, like he wants to devour me, is definitely not safe. So I stare at the tiled floor like my body isn’t completely aware of him, regardless.

He’s a crackling fire. All heat and comfort and I want to bask in it. But there’s always the chance I’ll get burned.

“This is more than just attraction, Ella.” His feet pad closer, all I can see of him. “We’re more than that.”

I can’t think of that right now. Can’t entertain the possibility that this is more than just animalistic desire, my body craving his because that is a rabbit hole too deep to crawl back out of. Maybe, just maybe, I can lower the wall enough for us to be, if not friends-with-benefits, at least coworkers-with-benefits. Is that a thing? Probably not, and probably for a good reason, but my mind is scrambling to think of a single good one when my body wants nothing more than his.

My breath hitches when he reaches me, toe to toe, and finally, I have no choice but to look up and meet his eyes. Heat rushes to my skin as desire floods my veins. Every part of me responds to every part of him, and I’m so, so tired of being the good girl. The responsible one. The one who always works hard and thinks about nothing but surviving. I just want him.

Fuck it. “Please, Anton. Take me.”

He needs no further encouragement. One moment there’s space between us, and the next it’s gone. He’s pinning me against the counter, and I don’t care that it’s digging into my lower back; I don’t care about anything other than his insistent mouth on mine. The kiss is everything. The world goes dark around me, and there’s nothing else but his lips parting mine, his tongue stroking and teasing my own.

I missed the taste of him. Topped with whiskey, but beneath that, all Anton. It drives me wild. My hands slide all over his skin, tracing up and down the hard lines of his stomach, around his back, pulling him closer to me like even an inch of space between us is too much.

The kiss deepens, his need just as strong as my own. I suck his lower lip into my mouth and tease it with my teeth as his hands find their favorite grip in my hair. He pulls just enough to make it ache, sending a shock of heat straight between my thighs, and I want this moment to last forever.

It’s such a mistake, but I can’t stop it, don’t want to, and I’m pretty sure my body would revolt if I even tried, so there’s nothing to do but keep going. When he breaks the kiss, it’s just to move down, his mouth on my neck with sharp little nips, he follows with tender kisses as his fingers make quick work of the buttons on my top.

We’re out of control now. I shrug out of my top and his mouth is there on my nipple is a heartbeat, sucking and swirling his tongue around the peak of it. I rock my hips against his, desperate for friction there, and feel the swell of his cock against me.

“Fuck, Ella,” he moans, on his way to my other nipple and there’s no amount of his touch that’s enough. More. I need more.

He knows it, senses it, and hooks his hands beneath my ass to lift me against him. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me across the kitchen, into the bedroom, never once lifting his mouth from my skin. I’ll be covered in his marks tomorrow, and I don’t care, I just want more of them. More of him.

Anton lays me down on the bed, covering my body with his, capturing my mouth in another deep and needy kiss. I reach between us and trace the length of him through his joggers, but that’s not enough, so I slip my hand beneath him and groan when my hands touch hot, naked skin. His cock is so hard for me, so thick I can barely believe it ever fit before, that it’s going to fit again.

He kisses my stomach, the curve of my hip, working his way down my body and I run my fingers through his hair, tousling those perfect blond waves. Someone who looks like an angel shouldn’t be capable of such sinful things.

“I want you, Anton,” I say again, not caring how much it sounds like begging, how obvious the need is in my voice. “Please, please don’t make me wait.”

The sound he makes, half growl, half moan, sends heat streaking down my spine and I know I’m already soaked for him. There’s nothing more he needs to do. His cock tents the fabric of his joggers and I long for its weight in my hand again, but it’s out of reach now.

“You’re so goddamn perfect,” he says, fingers crawling up my inner thigh way too slowly. I buck my hips impatient, and he holds me down with ease. “You’ve made me wait so long.”

“I’m sorry,” I cry out when his hand slips between my thighs, brushing the fabric that covers my clit. “Please.”

Each time I buck my hips, desperate for more friction, he stops and makes me wait. It’s torture. He wants me desperate, well, I already am. His mouth finds mine again and his fingers move steadily now, slipping beneath my panties to find just how wet I am for him.

“Should it be that easy,” he muses, stroking the length of my pussy, teasing the entrance. “after what you’ve put me through?”

Teasing, tormenting, he brings me close to the edge over and over, drawing back each time my pleasure starts to mount to its peak. I’m losing my mind, fingers scratching down his back, through his hair, my teeth on his lip, his jaw, his neck. If I could reach his dick, tease him back, maybe he’d give in, but he’s got me pinned down, at his mercy.

“I need you. I need you to fuck me.” One thrust and I’ll cum, that’s how close he has me.

He takes pity on me, lets me reach for the fabric of his joggers so I can yank them down and free his cock. Precum beads at the tip. Grabbing my hips, he drags me down to the edge of the bed and rips my panties off, then pauses to drink in the sight of me. I squirm under his heavy gaze.

“I’m going to give you all of it,” he promises, lining the tip of his cock up with my entrance. “And you’re going to take it all like a good girl. Every inch.”

I nod eagerly and brace myself, fisting my hands in the blankets. He pushes inside, just the first inch, and I gasp at the way I’m forced to stretch. He’s so thick. But I want it all.

“More,” I demand.

He groans and thrusts forward, sinking the rest of his cock inside of me with a single thrust. So deep. I can’t think straight, can only twist my hips to urge him on, but he needs no urging, already moving, his hands digging into my hips to keep me at the perfect angle for his driving thrusts.

“You’re so tight for me.” He pulls nearly all the way back out, making me feel every inch again, before slamming back inside of me. He’s brutal, holding nothing back, the bed creaking with the force of him. “God, you feel so good.”

The pace he sets is brutal, and it’s all I can do to hold on. He lifts my legs so he can slide even deeper, taking us both right to the edge. I’ll have bruises on my hips from the force of his grip, his fingers tightening as his breathing grows ragged. Nothing has ever felt this good.

I scratch my nails down his back, pulling him closer, the friction between us so sweet it aches. He slows just long enough to kiss me, catching my lips and sinking his teeth into my lower lip. The nip of pain makes me gasp with pleasure.

I’m close, so close. He thrusts again, driving me into the bed, and the ache of taking all of him is replaced by a deep, intense pleasure that takes me in waves.

“Oh god, Anton,” I moan out, past the point of caring if anyone can hear us through the walls.

Each time we come together, I brace to meet him, over and over. It’s a bruising pace that’ll leave me sore tomorrow, but somehow, I just want more of it. More of him.

Reading my mind, he hooks one of my knees beneath his arm and uses that new angle to drive even deeper, hitting my clit with every earth-shattering thrust. One more and I’m done. I drive him on with a twist of my hips and I’m there, clutching at his back as pleasure hits me in tidal waves.

I’m still riding the high of my orgasm when his own hits. He buries his full length inside of me, cock pulsing as he fills me, and I tighten around him to get every last drop.

His arms shake as he lowers himself down to kiss me, tenderly now. Sweat slicks our skin between us. I feel boneless, my legs are jelly, and there’s no way I’m moving for the next hour. Or two.

“You were worth the wait,” he murmurs into the side of my neck. “So fucking good.”

He rolls to the side, and I wrap myself around him, unwilling to let go for even a second. Now that we’ve been so close, it’s all I want. I prop myself up on one elbow and drink in the sight of him. Shining with sweat, hair a mess, he still looks too good to be true.

But that feeling I get when he snakes an arm around me and pulls me close so he can kiss my forehead and the tip of my nose? It’s way more than lust. It hums through me and coils around my heart. I think I’m falling in love.

***

Sunlight wakes me. There’s a gap in the curtains just wide enough to let in a beam of it. I stretch, relishing in how sore my body is, the sharp little reminders of the night before. When I roll over, expecting to find Anton curled beside me, I find the bed empty instead. For a moment, I panic. Did he run off so he didn’t have to face me? But then I hear the shower water running and relax, stretching out toward all four corners of the mattress.

After a few minutes, I kick the covers off and get out of bed, wrapping myself in one of the plush robes the hotel provides. When Anton gets out of the shower, I’ll surprise him with nothing on underneath and get a repeat performance. My body is already craving more of him, like there’s a bottomless pit of need for him. Something primal that can’t be sated.

I start the coffee, making it extra strong the way he likes, and scroll through my phone as I wait for it to brew. When it begins to bubble and hiss, I grab two cups and pull the cream from the fridge. Anton made sure it was stocked when we got here because, in some ways, he’s surprisingly sweet.

A knock at the door makes me pause. Who could it be? Anya, probably, or maybe room service if Anton ordered breakfast before getting in the shower. It’s exactly the kind of thing I could see him doing. I hesitate. If it’s Anya, it’s a little awkward that I’m wearing nothing but a robe in her brother’s room, but it’s so plush she probably won’t be able to tell, and anyway, leaving her waiting will only be more suspicious.

“Coming,” I call, tightening the robe around me before pulling the door open.

Men, dressed head to toe in black, barrel into the room. They shove past me, knocking me into the table beside the door so hard the breath is knocked out of me before I can even scream.