I reached for the phone on the desk and called room service. “A bottle of Cristal,” I ordered. “Two flutes, strawberries, and whipped cream. Have it here in ten. Thanks.”
Returning the receiver to its base, I slung the towel around the back of my neck. A quick glance at the clock told me it was half past two in the morning.
By the time the doorbell chimed, I’d turned on all the lights in both the living room and bedroom and opened the curtains that had been blocking the view of the moonlit ocean.
I went to the door and opened it, finding both Eva and room service waiting. Dressed as I’d seen her earlier, Eva looked like a bad girl, renewing my hard-on in an instant. Her hair was limp and her face shiny, her mascara running slightly. She smelled like clean sweat and alcohol.
If the server hadn’t been standing behind her, I would’ve had her on her back on the foyer tile before she knew what hit her.
“Holy fuck,” she breathed, eyeing me from head to toe.
I glanced down. I was still overheated, my skin shiny with sweat. The waistband of my sweats was wet with it, drawing attention to the erection I didn’t even try to will away. “Sorry, you caught me midworkout.”
“What are you doing in San Diego?” she demanded from the hallway.
Stepping back, I gestured for her to come in.
She didn’t move. “I’m not getting sucked into your sex-god vortex until you answer me.”
“I’m here on business.”
“Bullshit.” Her arms crossed.
Reaching out, I caught her by the elbow and tugged her in. “I can prove it.”
Room service rolled the cart in after her.
“You’re way too optimistic,” she muttered, looking at the order as I signed the receipt.
I handed the bill and stylus back, waited for the server to leave, then walked over to the phone by the sofa. I dialed Arash’s room.
“Are you serious?” he answered, sounding groggy. “Some of us sleep, Cross.”
“My wife wants to talk to you.”
“What?” Sheets rustled. “Where are you?”
“In my room.” I held the receiver out to Eva. “My attorney.”
“Are you nuts?” she asked. “It’s five in the morning in New York! On a Sunday!”
“He’s in the room next door. Take it. Ask him if I’ve been working today.”
She marched over and snatched the phone out of my hand. “You should get a new job,” she told him. “Your boss is insane.”
He replied and she sighed. “Before.” She glanced at me. “Thank God he’s hot. Still, I might get my head checked. Sorry he woke you up. Go back to sleep.”
Eva held the phone out to me.
I took it and put it to my ear. “As she said, go back to sleep.”
“I like her. She gives you shit.”
My gaze slid over her. “I like her, too. Good night.”
I hung up and reached for her.
She backed up, avoiding my grasp. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”
“Didn’t want to cramp your style.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
My brows rose. “Asks the wife who tracked my phone to my hotel.”
“I was just curious if you were staying in the penthouse or not!”
She pouted when I only continued to eye her. “And … I missed you.”
“I’m right here, angel.” I opened my arms to her. “Come and get me.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I have to shower. I stink.”
“We’re both sweaty.” I went to her. This time, she didn’t pull away. “And I love the way you smell. You know that.”
I put my hands on her waist, sliding them up until I hugged her delicate rib cage just beneath the full swell of her tits. I cupped them through her top, gently hefting their weight, squeezing softly.
I’d never had a fetish for particular parts of the female body, until Eva. I worshipped every inch of her, cherished all of her generous curves.
The pads of my thumbs circled her nipples, feeling them harden. “I love the way you feel.”
Lowering my head, I found the crook of her neck and nuzzled her, rubbing my damp hair against her.