I’d never been so out of mind but rooted to my body. I’d never let go that much and just let myself feel. There was something freeing about it, peaceful yet exciting. A weird combination that shouldn’t work together but it really, fucking did.
And I loved every second of it, so much, my mind so clear, I didn’t notice we were back until Tate pulled into Carnal Hotel’s parking lot. He drove straight to reception, parked out front and turned off the bike.
I sat behind him, still holding on like we were riding and I was staring at Ned who was staring at us.
“Babe,” Tate called and my body jolted.
I swung my leg off and had both feet on the ground when Tate swung off behind me.
“I’ll get your new key,” he said and started to reception.
I followed him.
“Jackson, hey son, Laurie,” Ned greeted as we walked in.
“Ned,” Tate returned.
“Hey Ned,” I smiled.
“You’re in three,” Ned told me, opening a drawer and taking out a key attached to a ring that also had a big, red triangular piece of plastic connected to it. Ned slid the key across the counter, Tate nabbed it and Ned’s eyes came to me. “We moved your stuff, hon, hope you don’t mind. Betty used your suitcases and did the personal stuff. I just lugged suitcases and did the dresser and fridge,” he said.
“Thanks, Ned, that’s sweet of you both,” I replied.
“Didn’t figure you’d wanna work all day and then schlep your stuff to a new room,” he explained.
“I owe you a bottle of champagne and another round of Clue,” I told him.
“Lookin’ forward to that, Laurie,” Ned said and Tate grabbed my hand, Ned’s eyes dropped to it and he quickly finished with, “’Night you two,” but he said it while grinning huge.
“Later, Ned,” Tate murmured as he pulled me to the door.
“’Night, Ned,” I called as the door swung closed behind us.
Tate kept my hand in his as we walked to room three which was way closer to Ned and Betty’s. I had to walk double time to keep up with his long strides. He didn’t release my hand when he made it to the door; he just unlocked it, opened it and pushed me inside.
I walked four steps in while Tate flipped the light switch.
It as an exact copy of my other room, to the letter.
I threw my purse on the bed, turned to Tate and remarked, “Weird, it’s like I didn’t even move. It’s the same room.”
“Enjoy the ride?” Tate asked and I blinked at him.
“Sorry?”
“Did you enjoy the ride, Lauren?” he repeated and I smiled.
“Yes, Tate it was –”
I didn’t finish but I made another sound. It was a gasp because one second he was standing inside the closed door, the next he was standing right in front of me, one of his hands was sliding up my neck into my hair, the other arm was wrapped around my waist pulling my body into his.
“What are you –?” I got out before his fingers in my hair fisted, pulled down just a tad less than gentle and his mouth was on mine.
And he kissed me.
No. He kissed me.
Brad was a good kisser and he was great in bed. He wasn’t my first kiss though, or my first lover. I’d had a better kisser than Brad, but not a better lover.
But Tate’s kiss…
There was no describing it.
It didn’t start slow, it started hard and wet and so demanding I had no choice but to give back what I got. And I did. Our tongues sparred then our teeth bit at each other’s lips and our heads twisted this way and that, all of it a mindless, sexy dance that was all-consuming. There was nothing but his mouth and my mouth, what they were doing and what they were making me feel. Nothing. Not in the whole universe.
When he lifted his head a fraction of an inch I found one of my hands was up his shirt in the back and one of them was cupping the back of his head. His hand was still fisted in my hair but his other arm had moved up to curve tight just under my shoulder blades, the pads of his fingers pressed into the side of my breast.
We both were breathing deep, our breaths mingling between us, I could feel his on my sensitized lips and he had to feel mine.
Finally, he spoke. “Shit, Ace.”
“Shit what?” I whispered, staring into his eyes, so close, I could count the tawny flecks.
“This isn’t good,” he whispered back and I swallowed and felt a sour pit forming in my belly.
“It isn’t?”
“I gotta focus,” he went on whispering.
“On what?” I asked also whispering.
“On shit that doesn’t include what that mouth and tongue of yours could do to my cock.”
My hand at his back fisted. “Tate –”
“And if your * is as sweet as your mouth.”
“Tate –”
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Tate –”
“I gotta find this guy,” he told me.
“I know.”
“I get back, Lauren, you’re on the back of my bike.”
I blinked at what he said, mostly because I didn’t understand it, then I swayed because he let me go and without a word or looking back, the door to my room closed behind him.
Several moments later, when I could speak, I asked the door, “Get back from where?”
Like the hall earlier that day, the door didn’t have an answer.
Chapter Six
Trash