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That One Night: Chapter 4

Rachel

Not waiting another second, I spin on my heels and breeze through the doors of the bar into the interior lobby of the hotel. Brad and his group are already gone, one of the elevator cars racing towards the bottom floor. My heels click on the tiles while he moves soundlessly behind me. Aside from my heels, the only other sound is the soft jazz music filtering out from the bar.

I can see our reflections in the stainless steel of the elevator doors. He dwarfs me, standing head and shoulders taller. I reach out and press the down arrow, watching the white lights flash over the doors as a car races to the top floor to pick us up.

He steps in close behind me. “Can I touch you?” he murmurs, his warm breath fanning against my ear.

I fight a shiver of want as I nod.

His hands go to my shoulders, flicking gently under my hair, until we’re skin against skin. His rough palms slide over my shoulders and down my arms.

The second the elevator dings and the doors slide open, I click on my heels inside the car, walking straight to the back. He follows me in, his presence overwhelming as the doors slide shut. There’s a finality to it. A promise of everything that’s about to come.

I spin around, gripping the cold metal handrail. He presses in, cupping my face. We both take a deep breath, our souls clicking into place like the gears of a machine. We exhale and I feel him everywhere. I want him everywhere.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, already all but brushing his lips against mine.

I let out a needy sigh, letting go of the handrail to grip his soft t-shirt with both hands. “God yes—”

And then he’s kissing me. His body covers mine as he claims all my air. I open to him, my hands letting go of his shirt to snake around his neck. I weave my fingers into his hair, arching up on my toes. There’s just enough to grab and I rake his nape with my nails, earning a groan that has him pressing against me with his hips.

We’re playful as we explore, our mouths opening until I’m flicking his tongue and teasing his bottom lip.

Ding.

His hand drops down from my face, tracing the column of my neck. I fight a whimper of need. I love a man’s hands around my neck. I arch into him, daring him to squeeze, but he quickly moves lower and I lose that tantalizing pressure.

Slow down, girl. It’s been two seconds. Not getting choked in an elevator is probably a good thing.

He’s getting under my skin, burrowing deep. Our energy dances, coiling and joining. It’s ethereal and real all at once. We keep kissing and I sense him with every part of me.

Ding.

His fingers trace my bare skin from my throat down between my breasts. This jumpsuit is skating that fine line between high fashion and Vegas bachelorette. The “V” is cut practically to my navel. It takes nothing for him to slip a hand inside the scrap of stretchy fabric. I shiver, arching into his touch as he cups my bare breast.

“I want you so much,” he groans into my mouth, weighing my breast before he playfully pinches my nipple.

Ahh—yes,” I hiss in reply. My pussy is screaming for some attention, and I press into him with my hips, feeling his hardness. Why did I wear a jumpsuit? He can’t give me what I need without undressing me, and there’s no way I’m stripping naked in this elevator.

Ding.

“Fuck—” He breaks our kiss, slipping his hand out of my top, and all but shoving himself away from me as he spins around. He drags that hand through his tousled hair as he practically stumbles over to the other side of the car. “Gotta press a floor,” he mutters.

Ahh, that’s the dinging. We’re just sitting here on the top floor of the hotel in an increasingly irritated elevator because we haven’t picked a floor.

“Seventeen,” I say.

He jabs the number with his thumb, turning around. The elevator immediately starts moving. He stays on the other side of the car, his eyes wide as he takes me in. His shoulders are heaving, and his lips are parted. The pro athlete is breathless. It’s doing amazing things for my confidence to know how I’m affecting him. I step forward and he flings up a hand. “No—wait.”

I blink, swallowing my nerves as I tentatively lick my lips. “Do you not—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” he growls. “You need to stay over there because, if you don’t, I’ll fuck you right here in this elevator and there’s no way in hell that’s happening. I’m taking my time with you.”

Dragon Rachel purrs inside her cage. This man is in so much trouble.

The elevator dings again at floor seventeen and the doors slide open behind him. He holds out his hand, putting his body between the doors. I click forward on my heels. He turns sideways, letting me exit.

He follows me like an eager puppy down the colorful hallway. One hand is on my waist as I lead the way towards my room. I stop us outside the door, digging in my clutch for the keycard.

He leans down, pressing hot kisses to my neck. His hand on my hip slinks higher until he’s brushing his thumb against my exposed side-boob—

Yeah…maybe this jumpsuit should be retired from public use.

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Room 1742?”

“Yep.” I tap the keycard against the reader and the door beeps as the light flashes green. I give the handle a tug, pushing it open. “Something funny about that room number?”

“Not funny,” he replies following me inside. “I think your thing about signs is rubbing off on me, that’s all.”

The door shuts behind us and he turns to lock it. I all but stumble into the room, kicking off my heels in the direction of the luggage rack.

It’s a gorgeous room. Daddy never does anything cheap. All the out-of-town wedding guests got upgraded rooms, with family and the groom parties getting suites. This is a corner room, with two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows showing off an amazing view of the downtown skyline and the Elliott Bay. It’s still daylight, but it’s Seattle. The sunshine barely lasted thirty minutes. The sky is overcast now, grey clouds sitting low. It’ll probably storm later tonight.

“Wow…this room is amazing,” he mutters. “I’m glad my sister isn’t seeing this. She’ll think I’m a cheapskate, and I’d never hear the end of it.”

I watch him look around. The bathroom is near the door. There’s a stocked wet bar and a TV stretched along one wall, with a sofa and a pair of pub chairs framing it out. An electric fireplace is on beneath the TV, the fire crackling.

The only other wall space that isn’t windows is taken up by a king-sized bed. There’s enough floor space in the corner where the windows meet for a chaise-like thing. It’s super soft and so comfortable, like laying on a cloud. I read there earlier, wrapped up all snug in my robe, before I left for brunch.

“Can I get you anything?” I say, fishing my phone out of my pocket and setting it down on the charging station by the side of the bed.

He crosses the room towards me, reaching in his pocket. He pulls out his phone too, setting it down on the other charging circle. The screen glows as the battery connects and I spy a picture of him on the lock screen with his arm wrapped around a beautiful girl. She’s got the same dark brown hair and his piercing hazel eyes. Their grins are magnetic.

“That’s Amy?”

“Yeah.” He picks the phone up, showing me the lock screen. “This was us in Japan about a year and a half ago.”

I smile. “She’s gorgeous. It’s weird, right?”

“What?”

“People always like to play that game where you wonder what you’d look like as a boy or a girl. We don’t have to wonder. Harrison is proof I’d make a very handsome man.”

He huffs, setting the phone back down. “Yeah…I guess.”

I sense the sudden change in his mood. “What is it?”

His hand brushes my cheek. “I know your brother’s name but not yours.”

“And I know your sister’s name,” I reply.

“You gotta tell me something.”

I fight the urge to go stiff. “Like what?”

“Anything,” he replies, both his hands now in my hair. For such a big guy, he’s so gentle. “I know what this is.” He kisses my brow. “I know you want us both to walk away clean. I get it, and I’ll play along. But I can’t just…” He sighs, his fingers brushing featherlight at my collarbone. “I need you tell me something.”

I let out a breath, giving him a little nod. He’s right. This pull I’m feeling to him has to be satisfied somehow. We need to honor this connection. I’ll tell him something that matters. I lift a hand to stroke his cheek. Then I trail my fingernail over the pulse point in his neck. I pause, flashing him a sultry smile. “Fine, here’s your something: I could kill you and make it look like an accident.”

He stiffens. “Fuck, is that—are you an assassin? Is this like a Black Widow situation and someone’s about to bust through the window?” He glances over my shoulder towards the double wall of glass.

I laugh, inching closer. “No…but I do look better than her in a leather jumpsuit.”

That gets his attention back on me. “I fucking bet you do,” he murmurs, his lips teasing mine.

“Two more guesses.” I let my hand wander, my fingers tracing down his chest. When I get to his waist, I tug on the bottom of his shirt, slipping my hand inside. His skin is so warm, and the muscles of his stomach are tight. I let my other hand wrap around his waist, slipping into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Fuck—” he hisses, his fingers digging into my hair, tugging my head back. “I’m trying to be a gentleman here, and you’re being really distracting.”

“You’re not guessing,” I tease. “Do you need a demonstration of my skills?”

He groans again. “You…uhh. Oh, shit—”

I slip my hand inside the top of his jeans, my fingers brushing over the marbled skin of his sculpted ass. I need to see this man naked. Need to worship him. Need him worshipping me.

He lowers his face to my neck, breathing me in before he latches on, his lips sucking on my pulse point. My heart flutters as my pussy clenches tight. I don’t know how much longer I can delay this. I need physical foreplay. And then I need to get fucked. Hard.

“Are you a nurse?” he groans out, his hand slipping back inside my top to knead my aching breast.

I sigh, arching into his touch. “Not quite. But you’re getting warmer.”

His breath is hot in my ear, his hands everywhere at once. “Will you take it off?”

The fact that he’s asking instead of telling—or just straight up ripping it off me—has my heart melting like a popsicle. Guys can be Neanderthals when it comes to a quick hookup. In and out. Fast and furious. They think they need to show off, own my body like their owning the moment. I had my fill of that kind of hookup in college.

But I was right about this guy. That’s not his style. He’s sweet as sugar. I’m sure this lethal muscle machine has the capability for violence in the game, but out of uniform he’s a big softie.

I stifle a groan, my mission for tonight clear. I want to unravel him. I want to make him beg, make him crawl. And please, goddess, let him take off these kid gloves at some point and make me crawl too.

“Last guess,” I reply. “Get this right, and you can strip me naked and fuck my pussy with that talented tongue.”

He shudders as he sinks against me, grazing his teeth up my neck.

“You like that plan?” I tease, my fingers combing through his hair. My other hand is still inside the top of his pants, holding him to me. “Are you hungry for my pussy? You want a taste?”

“Fucking starving,” he replies, his large hands fumbling with the zipper at the small of my back.

“Then what am I?” I whisper against his lips, biting down lightly on the bottom one.

He hisses, jerking down the zipper until he’s exposed my ass to the room. “Ungh—doctor. Are you a doctor?”

I smile up at him. “Good boy. Now you know something about me.”

He blinks at me, his lips wet with kisses. “Wait—seriously?”

I nod.

His face splits into a grin. “You’re a doctor? Like a real one?”

I laugh. “I’m not a TV doctor or a doctor of furniture upholstery. I’m a real, honest to god, licensed-to-practice-medicine doctor.”

His grin widens as he drags a hand through his dark hair. “That is so fucking hot.” He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “God, you’re so far out of my league. What the hell are you doin’ with a guy like me?”

He’s trying to make a joke, but I sense the undercurrent of truth in his words. He’s actually confused. I step in, brushing my thumb over his lips. “You’re a lost boy, remember? You’re meant to be finding me.”

His forehead rests against mine as we breathe each other in. After a moment, he lifts away, gazing down at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes. “Can I please fuck you now?”

I take a step back and reach up with both hands, unhooking the clasps of my halter top. I drop it and give my hips a little shimmy. The whole jumpsuit slinks to the floor in a whisper of black fabric, leaving me naked. “I thought you’d never ask.”


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