“Where are we going?” she huffs out.
I have to laugh because I think she might be having a fit in the seat of my car. “You’re not going to stomp your feet and cross your arms, are you? Because if you are, I’m going to have to pull over to watch this.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, and I try to grab it, but she moves away to quickly.
I turn the music back up and sing along, waiting for her next question, but she’s good at playing any game I throw her way. She doesn’t say anything as she shifts in her seat and hikes her dress up just a little higher. I give her a quick glance and look back at the road. I can play too. She stretches and her top slips down slightly. Damn she’s good. I keep singing and humming, thumping my fingers to the beat on the steering wheel, trying to ignore her provocative moves.
Then, she breaks and starts to speak.
I grin over at her.
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asks again.
“Nope.”
“Well, that’s too bad because I have a secret I want to share. And I was thinking a trade was in order. You know one for one,” she says, twisting a little, leaning her elbow on the console, and placing her chin in the palm of her hand.
“Not interested.”
“Oh I think you might be, especially since it has something to do with what I’m
wearing . . .Oh, I mean, not wearing.”
I whip my head around and glance her way. “You’re lying.”
Sitting up straight, she runs her fingers from the top of her boots to beneath her skirt where I can’t see them anymore. “Tell me where we’re going and find out for yourself.”
Instantly reaching my hand over to her lap, I blurt out, “The Beverly Wilshire.” I drive faster so I can just get there already.
Okay, so she’s good.
“Oh my God. I’ve heard it’s amazing there! How’d you manage to get a reservation so quickly and for Valentine’s Day? I thought they book out almost a year in advance.”
I have to laugh because she thinks she knows me so well already, and actually she does.
Tapping my fingers on her leg, I answer, “I’ll never tell.”
“Fine, be that way.”
“Providing details wasn’t part of the trade. But a deal’s a deal.”
My fingers start to creep up her thigh. I can feel her soft skin and get hard instantly. Actually, I feel like I’ve had a raging hard-on since she put those boots on. I don’t give a shit about hearts and flowers anymore. I want her. I need to taste her. I want to be inside her. So I drive even faster.
I run my fingers all the way up the inside of her legs. Fuck, she wasn’t lying. She’s not wearing panties. I start to move my fingers and I can feel how wet she is. She’s just so fucking hot. Then suddenly she presses her hand on top of mine and pushes it away.
Grinning mischievously, she says, “That’s enough for now.” Shocked, I look over at her, and she seems to be the perfect picture of calmness.
On the other hand, my pulse is racing, and I feel like I’m the one who’s going to have the tantrum. “What? Why?” I mutter.
She takes my hand and holds it in hers as she crosses her legs. “Because, providing details wasn’t part of the trade.”
I’m horny as hell as I pull up to the hotel, and I hope the evidence in my jeans isn’t too noticeable as I hand the valet my keys. I’ve already checked us in, and I have the room key in my pocket, so we head straight to the elevators.
We’re finally alone in the elevator. My heart is beating about seven times too fast as I reach out and grab her. Pressing her body against the wall, I pull her mouth to mine and enjoy the taste of her. This is not a loving romantic kiss. That time has passed.
“I want you, now,” I manage between my wet and tongue-filled kisses.