Dear God, he’d said yes.
She’d invited a gorgeous stranger back to her hotel room for a nightcap—translation: sex—and he’d actually said yes.
Hayden resisted the urge to fan her hot face with her hands. Instead, trying to remain cool and collected, she said, “I’ll meet you outside, okay? I just need to tell my friend I’m leaving.”
His smoldering blue eyes studied her for a moment, making her grow hotter. With a quick nod, he exited the bar.
Tearing her attention away from his criminally sexy backside, she spun on her heel and hurried back to Darcy, dodging people along the way. When she reached the table, her friend greeted her with a delighted grin.
“You bad girl, you,” Darcy teased, wagging her finger.
Sliding into the chair, Hayden swallowed hard and willed her heartbeat to slow. “Jesus. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“I take it he said yes?”
She ignored the question. “I just propositioned a complete stranger. Granted, he’s a very attractive stranger, but hell! I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Of course you can.”
“But I don’t even know him. What if he hacks me to pieces and hides my dismembered body parts in the air-conditioning system of the hotel or something?”
“You have your phone?”
She nodded.
“If you see any sign of trouble, call the cops. Or call me and I’ll call the cops.” Darcy shrugged. “But I wouldn’t worry. He doesn’t seem like the serial-killer type.”
Hayden blew out a breath. “That’s what they said about Ted Bundy.”
“You can back out, you know. You don’t have to sleep with this guy. But you want to, don’t you?”
Did she want to? Oh, yeah. As the image of Brody’s chiseled face and ripped body flashed through her brain, some of her nervousness dissolved. He was hands down the best-looking man she’d ever met. And she got the feeling he knew his way around a bedroom. The raw sex appeal pouring out of him told her she might be in for a very stimulating night.
“I want to.” Newfound confidence washed over her. “And I probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
Darcy winked. “Have fun.”
“Are you going to be okay here alone?”
“Of course.” Darcy gestured to her wineglass. “Just going to finish this and then find my own one-night stand.”
Hayden laughed. “Good luck.”
“Won’t need it.”
With a quick wave, she threaded through the crowd toward the door. When she stepped into the cool night air, she spotted Brody standing near one of the potted plants in the entrance, his hands slung in the pockets of his jeans.
A shiver tickled her belly as she took in his profile. He really was spectacular. Her gaze lowered to his lips. She wondered what they would feel like pressed against her own. Would they be soft? Hard? Both?
“Hey,” she said, her voice wavering.
She took a step forward just as he turned to face her. His expression, appreciative and anticipatory, sizzled her nerves.
“Your car or mine?” he asked in a rough voice that made her toes curl.
“I don’t have a car. My friend drove here.” A squeak. Her voice had come out in a damn squeak.
“My car’s over there.” He nodded, then began walking toward the parking lot. He didn’t check to see if she was following. He just assumed she was.
This was her chance to walk away. She could hurry into the bar and pretend she’d never asked this man to come back to her hotel. She could call Doug, have a heart-to-heart, maybe entice him into engaging in some phone sex… Ha. Fat chance.
She hurried to keep up with Brody’s purposeful strides.
“Nice car,” she remarked when they reached the shiny black BMW SUV.
“Thanks.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and pressed a button. The car’s security system beeped as the doors unlocked, and he reached for the passenger door and opened it for her. Hayden settled against the leather seat and waited for Brody to get in.
After he’d buckled his seat belt and started the engine, he turned to her and asked, “Where to?”
“The Ritz-Carlton.”
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything, just pulled out of the parking lot and made a left turn. “So where are you from, Hayden?”
“I was born in Chicago, but I’ve been living in San Francisco for the past three years.”
“What do you do out there?”
“I’m a professor at Berkeley. I teach art history, and I’m also working toward my PhD.”
Before she could ask him what he did for a living, he said, “Sounds exciting.”
She got the feeling he wasn’t talking about her career anymore. Her suspicions were confirmed when his gaze swept over her face and dropped to her cleavage. Under his brief scrutiny, her nipples tightened against her lace bra.
She played with the sleeve of the green wool cardigan sweater she’d brought instead of a coat, focusing on the scenery along South Michigan Avenue, afraid to look at him again. If he got her this aroused from one hooded glance, what on earth would he do to her in bed?
She couldn’t wait to find out.
The rest of the car ride was silent. When they reached the hotel, Brody pulled into the lot and killed the engine. Still, neither of them spoke. As she unbuckled her seat belt, her pulse began to race. This was it. An hour ago she’d been complaining to Darcy about the lack of sex in her life, and now here she was, walking into the lobby of the Ritz with the sexiest man she’d ever encountered.
Her heart thumped against her rib cage as they rode the elevator up to the penthouse. Shooting her a quizzical look, he said, “You must make good money at Berkeley.”
She simply nodded, her expression vague. She didn’t want to tell him that the lavish penthouse actually belonged to her father. Her dad had lived here up until three years ago, before he’d married Sheila. He kept the place so Hayden would have somewhere to stay when she came to visit. But she couldn’t reveal that to Brody, mostly because it would lead to questions like what does your father do? Which would then lead to questions about her dad’s hockey team, and that was one topic of conversation she tried to avoid.
With the exception of Doug, most of the men she’d dated over the years went a little crazy when they found out her father owned the Warriors. Once, she’d dated a man who badgered her constantly to get him season tickets, which had driven her to promptly break up with him. And even after the breakup, he kept texting, begging her for those tickets. Eventually, she had to block him.
She understood the sports obsession that came with most males, but just once it would be nice if she was the source of a man’s infatuation.
The elevator doors opened right into the living room. Decorated in shades of black and gold, the room boasted four enormous leather couches in the center, all positioned in the direction of a massive television mounted on the far wall. The suite had three large bedrooms, and a private covered balcony with a ten-person hot tub. In the corner of the main suite was a wet bar, which Hayden made a beeline for the second they stepped inside.
She wasn’t a big drinker, but her nerves were shaky, making her hands tremble and her heartbeat erratic. She hoped the alcohol might calm her down.
“What can I get you?” she called over her shoulder. “There’s beer, scotch, whiskey, bourbon—”
“You.” With a soft laugh, Brody eliminated the distance between them.
Oh, God, he was huge. She had to fully tilt her head to look at him. At five feet three inches, she felt tiny next to him.
Her heart jammed in her throat when he stepped even closer. She could feel his body heat, his warm breath tickling her ear as he leaned down and whispered, “That was the nightcap you were referring to, wasn’t it?”
His low, husky voice heated her veins. When she met his eyes, she saw the unmistakable desire glittering in their cobalt blue depths.
“Well?” he prompted.
“Yes.” The word slid out of her mouth.
He rested his hands on her waist, yet didn’t press his body against hers. Despite the pounding of her heart, anticipation began to build in her belly, slowly creeping up to her breasts like a vine and making them grow heavy, achy. She wanted him closer, wanted to feel his firm chest on her breasts, his hardness between her thighs.
Brody lifted one hand and brushed his thumb against her lower lip. “If you want to change your mind, now’s the time.”
He waited for her answer, watching her closely. Her throat grew dry, while another part of her grew wet.
Did she want to change her mind? Maybe she should call her own bluff now, before things got out of hand.
But as she studied his handsome face, she realized she didn’t want him to leave. So what if this wouldn’t result in I-love-yous and cosigning a mortgage for a house? Tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight she was stressed and tired and sexually frustrated. And just once she wanted to be with a man without thinking about the future.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” she murmured.
“Good.”
He skimmed his hand over her hip, moving it to her back, grazing her tailbone. Then he stared at her lips, as if pondering, debating.
His slow perusal lasted too long for her throbbing body. She wanted him to kiss her. Now. She let out a groan to voice her anguish.
Amusement danced across his face. “What? What do you want, Hayden?”
“Your mouth.” The words flew out before she could stop them.
“All right.” He dipped his head and planted a soft kiss on her neck, lightly biting the tender flesh with his teeth.
She whimpered and he responded with a chuckle, his warm breath moistening her skin. He trailed his tongue up to her earlobe, flicked over it, licked it, then blew a stream of air over it, making her shiver.
Fire began simmering in her blood, heating all the parts that already ached for him. She reached up and touched his dark hair, relishing the silky texture. She’d never known a simple kiss could have such a slow buildup. Most of the men in her past had thrust their tongues into her mouth and quickly followed suit by thrusting themselves into her.
But Brody… He took his time.
He tortured her.
“Your skin tastes like…” He kissed her jaw, then nipped at it. “Strawberries. And honey.”
All she could do was shiver in response.
“Take off your clothes,” he said roughly.
She swallowed. “Now?”
“Now would be a good time, yes.”
She reached for the hem of her sweater, trying to fight the insecurity spiraling through her. She’d never stripped for a man before. Was she supposed to put on a show? Dance? Well, forget that. No matter how much she wanted him right now, she wasn’t going to pretend to be the sexy seductress she wasn’t.
She shrugged her sweater off, then pulled her tank top over her head, pleased to hear Brody’s breath hitch at the sight of her lacy wisp of a bra. When she reached for the front clasp, he shook his head.
“No. Not yet. First the jeans.”
Well. Commanding, wasn’t he?
Obligingly, she wiggled out of her jeans and let them drop to the floor. Her black panties matched her bra, and they, too, left little to the imagination.
Brody’s eyes narrowed with approval. She was starting to get the hang of this stripping thing. Hooking her thumbs under the spaghetti-thin straps that constituted a waistband, she pulled her panties down her thighs, slowly, bending over a little so he could get a peek at her cleavage.
Naked from the waist down, she held his gaze. “Like what you see?”
His serious expression never faltered. “Very much. Now the bra.”
In one slow, fluid movement, she unclasped her bra and tossed it aside. Strangely enough, she no longer felt insecure.
“I like—” he stepped closer and brushed his thumb over the swell of one breast “—these. A lot.”
She wondered if he realized he still hadn’t kissed her lips. Though the way his eyes burned every inch of skin she’d just exposed to him, she felt thoroughly kissed.
“Why am I the only one naked?” Hayden complained. “Your turn. Get rid of your clothes.”
He grinned. “Why don’t you do it for me?”
The thought of undressing him was so appealing that her nipples hardened. He didn’t miss the reaction, and his grin widened.
“Gets you going, doesn’t it, the thought of getting me naked?” “Yes,” she confessed.
“Then do it.”
With a shaky breath, she grasped his sweater, bunching the material between her fingers before lifting it up his torso and over his head. That first sight of his bare chest stole the breath from her lungs. Every inch of him was hard. His defined pectorals, the rippling abs and trim hips. He had a two-inch scar under his collarbone, and another under his chin that she hadn’t noticed before, but the scars only added to his appeal, making him appear dangerous.
An intricate tribal tattoo covered one of his firm biceps, while the other boasted a lethal-looking dragon in mid-flight. It reminded her of her own tattoo, the one she’d gotten for the sole purpose of pissing off her father after he grounded her for missing curfew when she was seventeen. Even now the spontaneity of her actions surprised her. Darcy always teased that she had a secret wild side, and maybe she did, but it rarely made any appearances.
Tonight, though, her wild side had definitely come out to play.
“Like what you see?” Brody mimicked, the heat in his eyes telling her he was enjoying the attention.
She licked her lips. “Yes.”
Then she reached for his fly, unbuttoned it and pulled the zipper down. She bent over to slide his jeans off, admiring his long legs and muscular thighs and the erection that pushed against the black boxer briefs he wore, a thick ridge that made her mouth water.
Dear God, this was insanity.
Stumbling to her feet, she tugged at his waistband. Leaving him as naked as she was.
His body was toned, sculpted and unbelievably male. She eyed his impressive erection, then trembled at the thought of that hard, pulsing cock buried deep inside her.
Suddenly, she could no longer bear it.
“Would you fucking kiss me already?” she blurted out.
He laughed.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Yup. You’re so impatient.”
“Maybe if we weren’t standing here naked, I’d have extra patience to spare, but…” She gestured to his impressive body. “Look at you. You’re…”
“I’m what?” He sounded amused.
“Hot,” she grumbled. “You’re hot, and you’re still not kissing me. It’s like some new form of torture.”
“You’re great for a man’s ego.”
“And you’re terrible for mine! Just kiss me already.”
“So demanding…” Eyes gleaming, Brody pressed his body against hers and finally bent down to capture her mouth.
Oh, my God.
The moment his lips touched hers, it was like an electric current surging up her spine. The kiss was soft at first. Teasing. And then his tongue lightly swept over her bottom lip, seeking access. She moaned eagerly, and he took full advantage of her parted lips, his tongue sliding past them to slick over hers.
He felt and tasted like heaven. With skilled ease, he explored her mouth, hot and greedy. When he sucked on her bottom lip, she let out another moan, louder this time. At the desperate sound, he broke the kiss, searching her expression. She was pretty sure she was staring at him in awe.
“Was that up to par, Professor?” he asked cheerfully.
“It was all right.”
That got her a smile. A flash of perfect white teeth that sped up her pulse.
This man was too attractive for his own good.
He cupped her cheek, lazily trailing his thumb along her jaw. Then he dipped his head and kissed her again. As hungry as before, only this time, whenever she tried driving the kiss deeper, he eased his mouth back, chuckling softly.
He dragged one hand from her shoulder to her collarbone and then lower, his knuckles grazing the swell of one breast. His other hand joined in the exploration, and he groaned as he squeezed her breasts.
“I love these,” he muttered. Those magnetic blue eyes focused on the tight nipples he was now tweaking with his fingertips.
He seemed to know exactly what to do, turning her on in a way she’d never anticipated. He fondled her breasts for an excruciatingly long time before finally dipping his head and sampling one with his tongue.
He sucked the nipple, flicked his tongue over it, nibbled on it until she cried out with pleasure that bordered on pain, and just when she thought it couldn’t possibly feel better than that, he turned his attention to her other breast.
She could barely stay upright, her knees wobbling as she sagged into his mouth. Arousal drummed through her body, until her thighs grew slick from her own wetness, and she found herself choking out, “We need a bed. Now.”
