Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)

I nodded, but she remained quiet. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable with this line of questioning, and so I changed the subject. "So, Las Vegas is known for its nightclubs. Do you wanna go to one after dinner?"

She took a sip of her wine and looked up at me with warmth in her eyes. "Actually, Carson, if it's okay with you, I'd rather go back up to your hotel room."

"Check please," I said, pretending to look around for our waiter.

She laughed. We chatted through the rest of dinner, and then the waiter cleared our dishes and I paid the bill. I took Grace's hand in mine and we headed back upstairs. My body was humming with anticipation, but more than that, something had deepened between Grace and me today. I couldn't experience all the things I wanted to with her, but we still had time left together–and I wasn't going to waste a second of it.





CHAPTER 10


Grace



We hopped on the elevator with two other couples and began our ascent to Carson's room. One of the couples got off at the next floor and we rode in silence with the remaining couple, until they too got off a couple floors later. As soon as the doors shut, I found myself pressed to the elevator wall by six feet of hard, really amazing smelling man. I moaned out even before his mouth came down on mine. I expected the kiss to be wild, filled with passion, but he took his time as he pressed against me, his hands stroking down the sides of my body, our tongues tangling slowly. The style of the kiss didn't seem to go along with the location–on an elevator where anyone could potentially catch us–and for some reason, this fact sent flames of want shooting through my body. Carson had kissed me in lots of different ways in the last day and a half. But this kiss was my favorite. This kiss felt like it was personalized just for me–I couldn't pinpoint exactly why, but something about that kiss was different than any before it. Our bodies fit together perfectly, our tongues moved together like a slow tango. I was dizzy with desire.

The doors opened and Carson pulled away from me slowly, leaving me blinking and breathless, apparently unconcerned about anyone seeing us kissing in the elevator. We stepped off and I walked on legs that felt like Jell-O down the corridors to his room.

The door shut behind us and he was on me again–pushing me up against the door, kissing me hard and deep. When he broke away, he gazed down at me, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. "I can't get enough of you," he whispered, his eyes stormy, his expression tense. Then his mouth was on mine again, my tongue meeting his, my hands in the silk of his hair.

Carson suddenly scooped me up and carried me to the bed, setting me down right next to it. He took my shoulders and turned me around slowly, unzipping my dress. I felt his warm mouth kiss down my back as the zipper sliding down revealed more and more skin. I shivered, my nipples puckering at the erotic sensation of his mouth touching me somewhere unexpected.

My dress dropped to the floor and I stepped out of it and moved it aside with my foot. When Carson's hands weren't immediately on me again, I glanced over my shoulder to see him staring at me with a look that was intense and hungry, his eyes moving down my bare back, to the small, black thong exposing most of my backside, down to my heels. "You're stunning, Buttercup. If I could paint, I'd paint you right now, just like this."

I turned back around, smiling a small smile, relaxing my shoulders when I saw the look of intense appreciation on his face. Compliments usually made me uncomfortable. But for some reason, Carson's compliment made me feel warm and relaxed, and I knew by his expression that I had no reason to doubt his sincerity.

After several seconds, I felt his warm body move up against mine. He brought his hands around me to palm my breasts, his fingers drawing lazy circles around my nipples. I laid my head back on his shoulder, sighing with the pleasure his touch brought. "Carson," I breathed out as he continued to rub my nipples gently, causing butterflies to take flight in my ribcage and sparks to shoot between my legs. In minutes, I was wet and ready for him, just like always.

I rocked my hips gently against his hardness and he sucked in a breath. "The things you do to me, Buttercup," he ground out, "I didn't know…" but he trailed off there, not finishing the thought. I wondered what he had been about to say, but my lust was so all-encompassing that when his hand wandered down between my breasts in the direction of my hot core, all questions vanished, and I held my breath with the sweet anticipation of his touch right where I so desperately needed it.