I ignore the tingling sensation trailing down my spine as I continue cleaning the hotel room. "What were you doing at this party?" I ask, but I already suspect the answer.
"Who do you think referred you?" He takes the full trash bag from my hands and ties it off, then places it next to the door. "You wouldn't return my calls, so I had to find a way to see you."
I steel myself, resolve flooding me even as my passion for him simmers. "So you thought meddling with my business was the way to my heart? This isn't a hobby for me," I say too loudly. "This is my career. My livelihood. You had no right."
"I would never do anything to damage your business," he says. "It was a legitimate reference, and Dan had a great time. He and his friends will definitely be spreading the word about Hitched and you. And I kept my distance during the party so you could work."
I take a breath and realize he's right. He didn't hurt my business or damage me in any way. Was it manipulative? Yes. But not worth getting this upset about. He gave me a client. That hardly makes him a bad guy.
And now he's emptying beer bottles into the hotel sink and wiping down suspicious looking fluids from the table.
"Thank you for the referral," I say, once my temper's checked. "And thank you for your help tonight."
"You're welcome."
I keep looking for something more to clean, but the hotel room is nearly spotless by the time we're both done. There's nothing left to do but face him.
Before I can object, he pulls me into his arms and claims my mouth with his. He tastes of wine and cigars, and my body responds to him even as my mind tries to put the halt on the sexy times.
My mind finally wins, and I push him away. I'm out of breath, and my brain is cloudy with desire, but I force reason into the moment. "I can't do this again," I say.
He caresses my face with his hand, running a long finger down my cheek and jawline. "I don't think either of us has a choice."
He dips his head, his lips pressing into my neck, a flick of his tongue setting my skin aflame, and I groan even as I curse him for everything he's making me feel.
But I don't resist. Because I want him too much. These last few weeks have been miserable. I haven't been able to get him out of my mind. Maybe this will be it, one more dance before we end it for real.
And by dance, I of course mean hot, wild sex.
His hands are exploring my body, and I let go of him to pull off my blouse and unzip my skirt. They fall to the floor, and I'm standing in front of him in nothing but black lace and silk and high heels.
I reach to take his shirt off, but he drops to his knees instead and begins trailing kisses down my belly, his hands on my hips and ass, fingers pressing into my flesh.
When his tongue runs over my panties, teasing my pussy, my head falls back, and my hands dig into his hair, gripping him as he releases my hip and uses a finger to slide the silk fabric away. This time the firm pressure of his mouth comes in direct contact with my clit, and I moan.
My fantasies didn't do him justice. My own fingers could never compete with the feel of his tongue between my legs, eating my pussy.
He slides a finger inside me, then two. Long, strong fingers that know exactly where to touch to make me weak.
I'm near the edge of an orgasm, my muscles clenching, body ready to unravel, but he stops, pulling his fingers out of me, the air cool against the flesh wet from his tongue. I nearly scream.
"I've been imagining this since the night at the restaurant," he says, his voice husky and eyes filled with desire.
I don't want to admit the same, so I remain silent, still poised on the edge of climax, body reluctantly unwinding.
He stands, rubbing himself against me as he does, his cock pressing against his jeans so hard I worry it will break open the zipper. "I need you," he says, then he puts an arm around my shoulder and another under my knees and picks me up, carrying me into the bedroom.
I feel light, sexy, safe, and so fucking horny I will surely die if he does not finish what he started.
He lays me gently on the bed and peels off my panties, then moves his hands up my body, freeing my breasts from my bra. Standing back, he admires me for a moment, and I spread my legs, giving him full view of everything I'm offering.
"This is going to be difficult if you don't take off some clothes," I say. "We're not having movie sex. Real life fucking requires some skin-to-skin contact."
He smiles, and it lights up his face, softening the strong jaw, and that smile undoes me.
"Patience, darling. I'm memorizing you first."
But I'm not a patient girl, so I move between his legs and unbutton those jeans that don't look like they can take much more cock. Once he's free, I take him into my mouth, and it's his turn to moan and grab my hair. I suck deeply, stroking his base, running my fingernails gently over his balls as I move my mouth around his huge cock. It fills my mouth, and I can't take him all the way in, but I try. I can tell it drives him crazy.
And then I stop, just as I can feel pressure building for him.