Her eyes bright and her color high, Shay rounds the corner to the elevator bank. She stops abruptly when she sees me standing in front of the mirrored wall at the end. We stare at each other while I mentally command her to turn around and run in the other direction.
She refuses.
Squaring her shoulders, she steps forward, holding out her hand as if we’re about to shake on a real estate transaction.
I grab it instead, spin her around, and press her against the wall. Her surprised little gasp is so sexy, it makes my dick pulse in excitement.
Staring down into her wide eyes, I murmur, “Last chance to change your mind.”
“I don’t want to change my mind.”
“You sure? You look nervous.”
“I’m extremely fucking nervous, thank you very much. Press the button.”
“Why didn’t your girlfriends talk any sense into you?”
“Because they have the collective IQ of a twelve-year-old boy. Press the button.”
“Why are they your friends if they don’t look out for you?”
“They do look out for me. All three of them told me Chet was a jerk the first time they met him, and that I could do better.”
“And you didn’t listen.”
“I was too busy being blinded by his shiny teeth and glittering narcissism. Are you going to press the goddamn button, or were you planning to stand here all night interrogating me?”
No one—ever—speaks to me like this. With this impatience. This defiance. This outright disrespect. She’s even cursing. It’s like she’s purposely trying to provoke me. It’s maddening.
It’s also really hot.
When I lick my lips, her breath catches. A little shiver runs through her body. I know it’s not from fear, and that’s also really hot.
In fact, everything about this woman gets me so fucking hot, it’s dangerous.
It’s a good thing we’re only spending one night together. She’s exactly the kind of trouble a man could lose himself in.
Unless you’re her stupid clown of an ex. I should get her to tell me his last name so I can call the chief of police and have that putz arrested for criminal negligence.
Stepping away, I jab my finger onto the Up button on the console on the wall, then fold my arms over my chest and stare at the closed elevator doors, ignoring her.
After several seconds of confused silence, she says, “What are you doing?”
“Following your directions.”
I’m not looking at her, but from the corner of my eye, I see her scowl.
“Well, it’s very unromantic.”
My smirk is reflected in the mirrored doors. “Oh, it’s romance you want, is it? And here I was under the impression you were after something else.”
She comes to stand beside me and glare at my reflection. “I know what this is.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re trying to dissuade me from sleeping with you.”
“Dissuade? My, we’re using our big words tonight, aren’t we?”
The poison in her stare could kill an elephant at fifty paces. It makes me smile. Then I remember I don’t do that and scowl instead.
“Stop asking rhetorical questions. They’re the sign of a weak intellect.”
The doors slide open as I turn my head and stare down my nose at her. “Another sign of a weak intellect is going with a stranger to his hotel room.”
I step inside, press the button for the floor the room is on, and hold her gaze as I once again fold my arms over my chest.
Lowering her chin, she narrows her eyes at me and marches into the elevator.
She likes a challenge, I’ll give her that.
We stand side by side, glaring out into the lobby, until the doors slide closed. Then I turn, take her in my arms, and crush my mouth to hers.
Instantly, she melts against me. Pressing her chest against mine, she kisses me back with a small sound of contentment and molds herself against my body.
This woman is a goddess. She’s absolute fucking perfection. Anyone who doesn’t fall at her feet is a fool, and any man who’d make her feel like anything less than the queen she is deserves a bullet in his head.
I’m going to kill her ex.
Pushing the thought aside, I focus on the feel of her in my arms. The smell of her skin and hair. The warm curves of her body. By the time we reach our floor, both of us are panting.
When the doors open, I push the Hold button to give her one last chance to change her mind.
Breathing hard, she glances at the open doors, then rolls her eyes when she realizes what I’m doing.
“Not this again.”
“It’s not too late to turn back.”
“Are you still going to be saying that when I’ve got your dick down my throat?”
The image of her on her knees with my hard cock in her mouth makes me draw a sharp breath.
Seeing my expression, the little smartass smiles at me and says sweetly, “Just checking.”
She sashays out into the hallway, spins on her heel, and sends me a brilliant, victorious smile.
“Don’t think you’ve won. You haven’t won anything except another regret.”
“For your information, all this reluctance is a huge turn-on, so if you’re trying to get me to change my mind, you’re doing it the wrong way.”
Holding her gaze, I step off the elevator, moving closer until I’m looking down into her eyes. I can tell she’s intimidated, but she refuses to step back or break eye contact. She stands her ground like a lioness defending her territory, all wild beauty and savage pride.
The tiny beads of sweat glistening on her hairline are so pretty, it’s like art.
Jesus. Listen to yourself. Get a grip!
I growl, “Room 410. It’s left down the hall. Walk.”
She blinks, then frowns. “Walk?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Arching her brows, she says tartly, “I’m sorry, are you under the mistaken impression that you’re in charge here?”
It’s a good thing I don’t have problems with my coronary arteries. If I did, she would have already given me a heart attack from stress.
My tone firm and dark, I say, “I want to watch you walk down the hall.”
She thinks about that, then smiles. “Say please.”
I seethe at her silently. Her response is to smile wider.
“All right, Shay. You leave me no choice.” I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, then stride down the hallway toward the room. She squawks and kicks her legs.
“Stop bleating. You sound like a sheep.”
“Put me down!”
“I’m surprised you’re not enjoying this, considering the kind of books you’re into. Don’t all those he-man romance heroes of yours toss their women around like sacks of flour?”
“I never said I was into romance novels!”
“Yet you knew all the culprits I mentioned.”
“Those aren’t culprits, they’re characters!”
“Famous for their misdeeds, hence they’re culprits.”
She stops struggling and goes quiet. “Wait. You’re trying a different tactic to get me to change my mind, aren’t you?”
“Is it working?”
“No.”
“What a gigantic surprise.”
Hanging onto the back of my suit jacket, she mutters, “You don’t have to be sarcastic, you big jerk.”
I’m glad I’m carrying her, otherwise she might glimpse my huge smile.
