Sinful Love (Sinful Nights #4)

His hands shot out, gripping her upper arms. Tightly. “You like touching me?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

Like? She fucking loved it. She wanted her hands all over him. Wanted to explore him.

“So much.”

He exhaled hard. “One hour, you say?”

Her lips pressed against his neck, then she whispered softly, “Sixty whole minutes. Minus ten now, from the time we spent on the pool deck.” She said it like an invitation.

“Let’s get out of the hallway then.”

She nodded, reached for a key, and opened the door.





CHAPTER TEN


Bright lights assaulted him. Fluorescents shone starkly from the ceiling, revealing one wall lined with makeup counters, and four mirrors with exposed light bulbs framing each. He reached for the switch to dim the light to a normal illumination so he could be alone with her without retinas frying, when the wispy blonde from the shoot waved a hand.

Ah fuck. That was a buzzkill. So much for the privacy of a room. His shoulders sagged. It was like being in college again, roommates crawling out of every nook and cranny, right when he’d been hoping to have his hands all over Annalise. His fingers itched to touch her.

“Hi, Annalise,” the blonde said, stretching her arms over her head, pushing them into a gray sweatshirt. She poked her head through the hole.

Annalise cleared her throat. “Hey, Candy. What are you up to?”

“Just going to do some yoga during our break.”

“Great plan. Good use of time. I need to grab my purse.” Annalise gestured to a beige couch littered with purses, bags, and jackets. “Then you can do your downward dog to your heart’s content.”

Candy waved a hand. “I’m meeting my yoga guru. In his room. He travels with me.”

“Oh,” Annalise said, seeming to rein in a smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips. “That’s smart. To have him travel with you.”

“Thank you! I better go. I only have a few minutes to clear my mind of dangerous toxins,” she said, then seemed to float on her own weightlessness to the door.

She left, and the door clicked shut with a satisfying thunk.

“A traveling yoga guru?” Michael asked dryly.

“Don’t you have one? I mean, really. How else could you travel?”

He held up his hands. “Can’t think of how I’d manage without one,” he said, then glanced around the room.

“It’s a good thing she had to leave to see him, though, don’t you think?” she said.

“It’s a fucking great thing. Think anyone else will pop in?”

“It’s possible.” Annalise gave an indifferent shrug. “But that’s what chain locks are for.”

She dropped her camera bag to the carpeted floor and slid the lock into place. In a second he was behind her, dragging his nose along her exposed shoulder. “I like touching you, too. So fucking much.”

“I like you touching me,” she whispered, facing the door, her fingers frozen on the lock.

He dragged his hands along her sides, traveling over the fabric of her tank top, along her waist, up her ribs to her breasts, then back down. With her hair pinned up, her neck was bare and inviting. He dipped his head to the soft, sweet flesh, inhaling her. She trembled, shudders racking her whole body. He kissed a path along her neck, up to her ear, then nipped her earlobe.

“Michael,” she said, all low and needy.

“Yes?”

She twisted to face him, looping her arms around his neck. “Last night was…intense.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, then nibbled on her lip.

A part of him knew there was so much to say. Words about time, and distance, and longing. Questions about her heart and her head, and how the fuck she was doing after losing her husband. Practical matters, too, like how long was she in town. Would he see her again today? And did she miss him over all the years with the same kind of intensity he’d missed her?

His brain fought back, reminding him he was being ridiculous. He hadn’t missed her. He hadn’t thought about her. He hadn’t fucking obsessed on her.

This was just fiery lust, and it had been reignited so furiously it blazed white-hot.

“How intense?” he asked, brushing the backs of his fingers along her cheek. “We only kissed last night.”

“Kissing can drive you crazy, though, don’t you think?”

“I made you crazy last night?” He toyed with her, wanting to hear the admissions from her, the breathless, gasping yeses.

“Wild. I was wild,” she said, then reached for his hands and led him to the row of mirrors with the lights. She hopped up on a counter, perching on the edge, and beckoned him closer. With his thigh he nudged open her legs and wedged himself between them. Ah, his favorite place to be. The place he wanted to get to know so much better. Ideally when they were both naked, but clothed was at least a good start.

She roped her arms around his neck and raised her eyes to his. Hers were a confessional. A dirty one. “Last night wasn’t just the two of us kissing. When I returned to my room there was more.”

“Tell me,” he said, threading a hand in her hair, letting the silk flames fall against his fingers. “I want to picture it perfectly.”