He was punch-drunk with it, the idea, the surreal quality of all that had gone on since he’d met her. He’d never been one of those fanciful dolts who believed in fate, or love at first sight, but whatever elements of destiny had brought this woman into his life, be it coincidence or the actions of his batshit-crazy mother, well, he was thankful because Elaine was beauty and heartbreak and everything in between. Learning all about her would be like having an endless gift to unwrap.
His hand slid up her back and threaded into her hair. He had to kiss her. Right now. In the center of a crowded dance floor in the middle of the Jungle Room Lounge, he had to kiss her. So he did. She kissed him back, and he knew this night would be even better than the one before. It needed to start right now.
As soon as the last strains of the song floated out over the crowd, Grant pulled her from the dance floor and around the corner. He pressed her up against the wall next to the elevator and the big Elvis ’69 poster and kissed her again.
She chuckled, low and sultry, as he reached around blindly for the elevator button. When the door opened, they practically fell inside.
“Want to go upstairs?” he asked, as the elevator started to rise.
She laughed again. “I think we’re halfway there.”
“God, I’m halfway there.”
The door opened with a soft glide and then they were almost sprinting down the hall. His hands shook as he stuffed the key into the slot at the suite door. Maybe that hand tremble wasn’t manly, but he didn’t care because they were still in the hallway and Elaine was already pushing the edge of his shirt up from behind.
He slammed down the handle and shoved open the door, pulling her inside. He wondered, briefly, if there was a security deposit on this room, because there was a good chance they were going to break something.
They rushed past the burgundy walls and into the bedroom, falling to the bed with a bounce and a bit of laughter. His shirt came off first, then he caught the hem of hers, pulling it up, fast, urgent. What he lacked in style he’d make up for in pure enthusiasm. This wasn’t the time for finesse, it was the time for raw need. He didn’t want to slow down, he just wanted to be buried deep inside her. He kissed her neck, and bit. She arched up against him and he caught her around the waist, turning them on the bed so that their heads were near the pillows. Her soft gasp of encouragement would have buckled his knees if he hadn’t already been lying down.
She knocked the pillows aside so she was lying flat on the mattress. He gazed down at her, marveling once more at his good fortune that this woman had stumbled her way into his life. Maybe some things really did happen for a reason.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered and dipped his head for another kiss. She reached down between them and tugged at the waistband of his jeans, popping the button. She may as well have been pulling the pin from a grenade because there was no stopping him now. He growled down deep, the sound scraping in his throat. She pulled at the zipper but his pants were uncooperative, given that they were stretched to capacity by his extremely optimistic cock. He reached down and moved the zipper on his own. She reached inside his boxers and set him free, running her hand along the length of him. Everything inside him turned to chaos and want.
“God,” he ground out again, and pressed another kiss along the slim expanse of her neck. “I need to lose these pants before I lose my mind.”
She offered up a sweet huff of annoyance when he rolled away to take off his jeans, but he was back before the sound ended. He moved lower, his face nuzzling her belly. Her laughter was breathy and she tried to turn but he held her steady.
“That tickles,” she gasped, and pulled at his hair.
He might have kept at it, just to hear her laugh again, but he had more serious matters on his mind. He reached down and unzipped her jeans. She sighed with relief as he caught the waistband with his hands and inched them slowly off. They got caught up at her ankles and he had to stand up to get them all the way off, but that was OK. He dropped them on the floor as a wickedly delicious idea took hold. Yes, he was in a hurry, but he still had time for one small and luscious detour.
Delaney was so happy to be naked. Grant’s hands and lips and tongue seemed to be everywhere, leaving her mindless and blissful. Everything else faded away. It was just them, and this bed. An oasis of pleasure. She heard her jeans land on the floor and then Grant was kissing her ankle, and then her calf. His tongue traced a path upward, sending tendrils of desire right to the center of her. Delicious. Hot and delicious.
He kissed the inside of her knee, his fingers gripping her hips tightly. A confusion of sensations competed for her attention, some rough, some gentle. The sweeping glide of his fingers, then the scrape of his whiskered cheek brushing against her skin before he dipped his head and kissed her. There. Right there.