Once I got off the elevator, the click of my heels now dulled against the thick carpeted floor, I followed the signs for room 201 and sucked in a huge breath when I stood outside it, the flutters from my belly rising right up into my throat.
What was I so nervous about? It wasn’t like I hadn’t done this with him before. Although my inhibitions were slightly lowered by alcohol last time. Dammit, I should have had more than one glass of wine with my dinner to relax me. Instead, I’d gotten home around six thirty, barely able to concentrate on cooking or eating. I’d rushed through it so I could shower, shave, and primp. What I should wear had posed a dilemma, but I went for a simple black shift dress with simple black stilettos, silk hold-ups with a lace band around the thigh, and black lace underwear. Understated sexy.
Ava, you put on sexy lingerie for a man you don’t even like, I chastised myself as I raised my finger to the doorbell of the suite. You’re sure you want to do this? Last chance to turn back.
I wavered.
Then I pressed the doorbell.
Not a second later I heard movement from behind the door and a few seconds after that the door opened. My breath caught at the sight of Caleb Scott standing tall and imposing before me. He stared at me, his expression almost neutral, if it weren’t for those paradoxical eyes of fire and ice blazing at me.
This big, physically and verbally intimidating man, who I imagined never let anyone have a piece of him. What he didn’t realize was that his desire was a big part of him, and he was handing it over to me. He wore a white T-shirt that delineated his amazing physique and a pair of jeans that hung well on his narrow hips. Who knew a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt could be that goddamn sexy?
“Are you going to invite me in or just stare at me?” I arched an eyebrow.
“Both.” He stepped aside and I hesitated for a moment, which of course he picked up on. “Are you going tae come in or live the rest of your life regretting that you didn’t have one more night with the Bastard Scot?”
I tried to quell my smile but my lips turned up at the corners despite my best efforts. “You remembered my endearment. How sweet.” And with that I lifted one foot in front of the other and walked by him, my elbow brushing his stomach, his delicious scent causing a shiver to ripple down my spine.
I doubted very much the hotel suite was decorated to Caleb Scott’s taste. He struck me as a black and chrome kind of guy. Not the kind of guy to dig striped pale jade wallpaper, pale gold carpet, dark mahogany furniture, traditional New England essence. We stood in a living room that had a pale gold velvet sofa opposite a mahogany sideboard with a television. There was a matching coffee table between them. At the end of the room was a bay window I knew overlooked the Public Garden, but I couldn’t see the view because Caleb had drawn the curtains. Beside the window was a chair and a desk where he’d put his laptop and papers. To my left were glazed double doors, open to the separate bedroom, where I could see the king-sized bed.
I decided to peer inside the bedroom area out of curiosity, since I’d never been inside a suite here before (not to mention a need for distraction from the Scottish Viking behind me). On the left side of the room was an open doorway leading to the bathroom. From there I could see a long marble sink.
“Nice room,” I said quietly as I felt him step up behind me.
Caleb didn’t reply. Instead I felt his hands slide down over my shoulders to grip the lapels of my light coat. He tugged and I let my shoulders relax and drop so he could remove it.
I turned my head slightly to see him put the coat on the sofa. And then goose bumps flared and sprinkled along my neck and back as his knuckles brushed my nape while he gathered my hair in his hand and moved all of it over one shoulder.
“I guess the talking part of this is over,” I whispered, trying to sound amused instead of breathless and aroused. I failed.
At finding no zipper on the dress, his hands caressed their way down my sides until he found the hem. “You can still talk, Ava.” His voice rumbled behind me as he lifted the dress slowly. “Tell me how slow, fast, hard you want it.”
I shivered, raising my arms above my head as he pulled the dress up and over. There was silence behind me as I lowered my arms, so much so I felt a burst of nerves that caused my knees to shake a little. “I don’t do this,” I whispered, the words out before I could stop them.
“Do what?”
“Casual sex with men I don’t like.” Or casual sex at all.
He grunted. “You’ve already done it. Turn around.”
I did so slowly, hating that I was trembling. Hoping he couldn’t see it. Not wanting to be vulnerable to him in any way. Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to his face and felt that hard tug of need at the way his voracious gaze roamed over me.
“The Scot likes black underwear and hold-ups,” I teased, attempting to relax into this, to bring back our banter and ease instead of this volcanic sexual tension that was much too intense. I slipped off my heels.
Suddenly he took hold of the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up over his head and off, throwing it to the couch with my dress. God, I didn’t even know men like him existed outside of movies and myths. I couldn’t wait to explore his body again, remembering how much fun I’d had last time doing it.
“Babe, you could walk in here wearing a plastic garbage bag and I’d still want you. Now get on the bed,” he demanded as he unbuttoned the top of his jeans.
“You get on the bed.”
Caleb shook his head as he divested himself of his jeans and underwear. “Why is everything a bloody battle with you?” He looked up from staring at me to glare hungrily into my eyes. “You’re not my type. Your hair, your makeup, your clothes, your attitude. You’re too beautiful and you know it. And yet I’m desperate to have you again.”
I glowered, hating him and hating that my body was still hot and flushed and needy for him even after he’d said that to me. “I hate you.”
His jaw clenched, fire flashed in his eyes, and he growled, “Good.” His mouth crashed down on mine, sweeping me up into a hungry, punishing kiss that I instantly responded to. His strong arms bound around me, crushing my breasts against his naked chest, and I felt the shivery thrill of being pressed against the strength of him.
His hold was almost too tight, but there was something desperate about it that ignited the fire in me, and I slid my arms around his back, my fingers digging into his muscle as the kiss turned almost savage. Our tongues mated, mimicking what our bodies wanted to do, our teeth scraped against lips, biting, possessive, our breaths hot, pants and growls and gasps filling each other’s mouths.
No one kissed me like he did.
No one.
It obliterated the insecurity he’d caused only moments before.
It obliterated everything.
Suddenly he was helping me out of my underwear and then I was on my back, his kisses still deep, still ravaging, as I felt his hard length caress my belly and move down to nudge between my legs. I felt him push inside me and I whimpered against his kiss, my fingernails biting into his skin with need. Caleb groaned into my mouth. “You feel amazing.”
Through the fog of desire, realization of why this felt so incredibly good hit me. “Condom.” I stilled against his movements.
His eyes flew to mine and I saw the astonishment he couldn’t mask. Apparently protection wasn’t something he forgot about that often. His expression turned almost suspicious, accusatory even, and he gritted his teeth as he began to withdraw. The accusation died under a flush of dark pleasure and instead of pulling out he thrust back in, causing lightning bolts of bliss to rush up my spine.
He did it again. A guttural sound of ecstasy puffed against my lips.
I was losing myself in him.
I wanted to let go.