Daniel, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, is waiting outside of my hotel when I turn the corner of 36th Street. Even though the day was warm, the night is bitterly cold for so-called spring. And yet he chose to wait out here instead of in the warmth of the lobby. I’m taking it as a sign of how eager he is to see me.
I feel the same way about him.
Seeing him now nearly feels like all my dreams have come true. It’s yet another indicator that I’ve progressed past the point of having a minor crush to a major one. I’ve taken a step down the slippery slope, and there’s no going back, even though it scares the absolute hell out of me.
And, okay, I’m a little embarrassed by it too. I don’t know how to handle these kinds of feelings anymore. I haven’t really, truly fallen for someone in so long. It doesn’t matter that I write about it every day; now that it’s happening to me, I’m trying not to fold in on myself, trying not to lose my fire. These big emotions are threatening to take over and weaken all the shields I’ve put up.
It’s proving to be a challenge, though, because all I want to do is run in the opposite direction and pretend none of this is happening.
But I keep walking toward him.
He watches as I approach. Then, without a word, he pushes off the wall and follows me through the revolving door. There’s no point in looking over my shoulder. He’s there, even as I step up to the front desk to check in. I flash a smile at the woman and pull off my gloves, finger by finger, and give her my last name for the reservation.
I still don’t glance back as he settles his hands on my hips and presses his own against my ass. It’s stupid how flattered I am when I feel the bulge against my back. His enthusiasm matches mine in that respect. I’m already getting wet from the sheer anticipation of what’s going to happen when we get upstairs.
The woman behind the counter flashes us a wide smile as she asks if we’d like two keys.
“Yes, please,” Daniel answers, his voice low and smooth, igniting a flicker of attraction in the woman’s eyes.
The jealousy that shoots through me is unwelcome, and yet I find myself leaning back into Daniel in response to it, smiling at the woman as I stake my claim. While I take the key cards she offers, I slip my free hand around my back to cup Daniel through his jeans, pleased when I feel him growing harder.
I shouldn’t behave like this. I shouldn’t let the attention of one random woman make me feel like my grip on a man I’m not officially committed to is slipping. And yet here I am, rubbing my palm over his cock in public like I’m unafraid of the consequences.
Keys in hand, I pass one back to Daniel, making sure to let our fingers brush as he takes it.
“Enjoy your stay,” the woman says, still staring at Daniel. “Let me know if there’s anything you need.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, tamping down on the sarcasm itching to break free.
Daniel wraps his arm around my waist, grabs my bag, and tugs me toward the elevators.
I still don’t look at him as we step into one and head up to the eighteenth floor. It’s not until we’re in the room with the door shut that he steps in front of me and dips his head to meet my eyes.
“You were jealous,” he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up. “You didn’t like how she was looking at me.”
I scoff as I shed my coat, staring over his shoulder instead of directly at him. If I make eye contact, my lies will be given away. “Why would I be jealous? People can look at you however they want. That’s not my business.”
“You were jealous,” he repeats with a little more emphasis, leaving no room for argument.
As much as I want to, I won’t keep trying to deny it. He has a way of always getting the truth from me.
“Fine,” I huff, putting my hands up. “I was jealous. You’re here with me, not her. I wanted to make sure she knew that, shitty as it was.”
“Shitty, maybe,” he concedes. “But I enjoyed it.”
“So you like seeing me jealous?”
“No,” he answers. “I like seeing you care.”
I don’t know what to say for a long beat. Frozen in place, scrutinizing him where he stands, I feel embarrassingly called out. Finally, I settle on, “Fuck off, Daniel.”
That, for some reason, makes him laugh. Then he’s pulling me into him and pressing his lips to mine. At first, I pout instead of kissing him back, leaving him to drop little kisses all around my mouth before pulling my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging and teasing me to open up.
“Bésame,” he murmurs as he lets go. He hovers over my mouth, close enough that one subtle move would bring our lips together again. “Don’t make me work for it.”
I say nothing as I focus on the window behind him and bite my tongue.
He frowns and tilts his head. “I’ve embarrassed you.” There’s a hint of surprise in his tone. “You don’t like the fact that you care about me. I’d go so far as to say you like me.”
That gets my attention. Snapping my focus back to him, I glare, but once again, I can’t deny his words.
“You like me,” he repeats, and this time he’s almost gleeful. “Oh, no wonder you’re embarrassed. What a terrible thing.”
“It is.” I swallow hard, pushing back the emotion in my chest. “I’m not supposed to like you.” And definitely not as much as I do.
“We can still pretend you hate me.” His lips dip to mine again, and this time, I let him kiss me, light and lingering. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“But you know,” I whisper. “And that’s dangerous.”
“It is. I might use it to my advantage.”
“I’d rather you not.”
“Too late.”
He kisses me harder now, staking his claim and letting me claim him in return. It’s acceptance of my feelings, of acknowledging his win. He’s showing me that he’s not the only one with a prize.
“Would it make you feel better if I said I liked you too?” he asks quietly, gathering me closer, brushing against my jaw with his stubbled cheek.
“Only if you mean it,” I say weakly, letting him hold me up. I’m fully clothed, but I’m more exposed than I’ve ever been. The vulnerability aches in my chest. It fucking hurts, but it’s the tradeoff for finally allowing him in.
“I like you, Selene,” he tells me. “Even if you want to hate me.”
This time, when our lips meet, he pushes his tongue into my mouth and coaxes mine forward, deepening the kiss. It’s slow and lazy, like we have all the time in the world. I’ll happily pretend that we do.
I’m dazed and lightheaded, like I’ve been drinking expensive champagne, when he pulls back.
“Let me take you out tomorrow.”
Blinking, I clear away the spell he’s put me under, registering what he’s said. “Yeah? For that real date you mentioned?”
“Yeah, for that real date. It’s long overdue.”
I’d agree, but it’s probably best that it’s taken us this long. It proves that this isn’t a fluke.
“What time should I be ready for this date?” I ask, stroking the back of his neck. “Should I wear anything in particular?”
“Be ready by nine a.m.”
I tilt my head in surprise at the early time. Though he did say he wanted a weekend with me, so I suppose he plans to make the most of the time we have.
“And wear whatever you want, as long as you have something on underneath I can fantasize about.”
I smile and bat my lashes, feeling a little of my power returning. “Don’t I always?”
Daniel drops his head back for a moment and closes his eyes like he’s fighting to keep his composure. “And you really have the nerve to doubt that I think about you constantly.”
With his hands on my arms, he pulls them from around his neck and steps back from me.
I frown, confused by the distance he’s put between us. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving,” he says, zipping his jacket back up.
Now I’m truly baffled. What was the point of showing up here if he wasn’t going to stay? “You don’t…” I pause, fighting to find the words. “You don’t want to have sex?”
“Not tonight.”
My stomach churns, and embarrassment creeps up my neck. “Did I do something wrong?”
He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. “Not at all,” he admits. “I just want to save it for tomorrow.”
The bulge in his jeans affirms that he’s not turning down the opportunity because of a lack of desire.
“Why not both nights?” I challenge, because goddamn, I’m not sure I can hold out until tomorrow. I’ve been desperate for his touch for too long.
“Because with what I want to do to you, you wouldn’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow,” he answers, reaching over to cup my cheek and driving his point home. “If that were the case, we couldn’t go on our date.”
“Oh, so you’re doing me a favor,” I say dryly.
“Exactly.” He leans in to kiss me one more time, hard and bruising. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I whine, catching his hand in mine as he pulls back. “Can’t you just go easy on me tonight?”
His answering grin is knee-weakening. “Baby, you know that’s not possible. You’d never let me, and after being apart for this long, I can’t trust myself not to give you exactly what you want.”
“We could just cuddle,” I try in one last ditch effort to keep him here with me, even if we both know we’re not capable of just cuddling. As amped up as I am right now, I’d maul him after five minutes.
He brings our intertwined fingers up to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of my hand, his dark eyes holding mine. “I promise the wait will be worth it.”
“It better be,” I warn, but all I get in reply is another knowing smile and a goodbye.
I blow out a breath as the door closes behind him.
If this isn’t the best date in history, I’m going to riot.
