I grin. “Merry belated Christmas.”
The valet reaches her side and opens the door. I hop out and round the front bumper, thanking him as I throw him the keys. This is all costing me a pretty penny, but I don’t care. Nor do I care that the doorman is smirking at Sabrina’s outfit and our car. He probably thinks I’m going to get ripped off by bringing a hooker back to my room.
“Your present is at my house,” she says mournfully as I join her on the sidewalk.
Draping an arm around her back, I gently push her forward. “You can give it to me tomorrow during our bumming-around time.”
“Deal.”
I lead her directly to the elevators and then stare at the digital display so I don’t attack her in the lobby of this swanky hotel.
“I’m pretty sure everyone here thinks I’m a prostitute,” she says dryly.
“If they do, it’s because that’s the only way someone as hot as you is allowing me to put my grubby mitts all over your body.”
“Bullshit, but that’s a nice compliment.”
“I’d kiss you right now, but since I haven’t seen you in ten days, I’d probably lose control and try to hump you in the lobby.”
“I can wait.” She stares pointedly at the bulge in my jeans. “Although, from the outline of your monster, my guess is that no one would be surprised.”
The dinging of the elevator doors covers my growl, but judging by the smirk that spreads across Sabrina’s face, I can tell she hears it.
We get off on the fourth floor. I barely make it inside the room before I have her pressed up against the door, my tongue inside her mouth, my hands pushing open her coat to grope her tits.
She moans, but it’s not a cry of passion.
Instantly, I drop my hands. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She quickly draws me back against her. “My boobs are extra sensitive for some reason.”
I run my hands down her sides. “Then I’ll be extra tender tonight.” I allow her to tug me in for another kiss before backing off. Reaching down, I adjust myself. “Give me a minute, darlin’. I didn’t plan to attack you the minute I saw you, but, hell, you know you drive me crazy.”
“Same.” She swipes a palm across her forehead, and her hand looks mighty shaky to me.
I wonder if part of it’s from hunger. “Why don’t you sit down?” I gesture toward the little couch against the wall.
Sabrina nods and walks farther into the room. Meanwhile, I press the heel of my hand against my cock and order myself to act like I’ve had sex before.
“How much did this cost?” She collapses on the loveseat and looks around in dismay.
“It’s nothing,” I assure her. “The guy who owns this joint is a Briar alum. He gives us a special rate. Don’t tell the NCAA.”
“Is that even a violation?”
“Don’t know. I’m operating under the don’t ask, don’t tell policy.”
“Gotcha.” She slips off her shoes and folds her coat over the arm of the couch, leaving her wearing only her tiny shorts and the bra.
God, she’s the hottest thing on the planet.
“What’s that?” she asks, her gaze landing on the gift-wrapped box sitting on the center of the bed.
“Your present.” I had checked in earlier and left her gift in the room. Reaching out, I swipe the package off the bedspread and join her on the sofa. “Happy holidays.”
Her face lights up as she takes the box from me. I lean back and watch. I can’t wait to see her face when she opens it.
“What is this?” she asks warily. “It feels expensive.”
I snicker. “You can tell whether it’s expensive or not based on how much it weighs?”
“Of course. The heavier it is, the more it costs.” She bites her lip. “I hope you didn’t spend a fortune on me.”
“I promise you I didn’t.” I’m lying. It’s definitely more money than I’ve ever spent on a girl before, but I couldn’t resist.
One of Mom’s clients makes custom leather goods and sells them online, and she let me buy Sabrina’s gift at cost because there was a flaw in the leather. The defect is on the inside, but apparently for the prices she charges, even that requires a discount. I was thrilled to buy it. My mom? Not so much. She felt it was too expensive to buy for a girl I barely know, but this had Sabrina stamped all over it.
Beside me, she rips open the paper and then lifts off the lid. When the rich smell of leather wafts up, her mouth forms a perfect circle of surprise.
“What did you get?” she asks, but it’s not a question I’m required to answer. Her hands rip away the tissue paper to reveal the burnished leather and brass buckles of a briefcase.
“Oh my God, this is so gorgeous!”
I don’t have to ask if she loves it. It’s in every gasp and loving caress of the leather. Oh yeah, nailed it.