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“I don’t have you in the elevator—yet.”
He turns and heads across the room, stopping to talk to a couple. They hug one another, the woman staring at me over his shoulder. They talk for a few minutes while Jack and Mila’s dance draws to a close. He approaches them as they exit the dance floor, shaking hands with Jack and pulling him in for one of those man hugs. Then he hugs Mila.
So many people shift their attention to Rowan as he winds his way through the crowd, ignoring me and exiting the ballroom. I wait for the father and daughter dance to begin before I grab my purse and slowly make my way to the exit.
My heels click on the hotel’s marble floor as I walk the length of the hall to the elevator. As I press the button, I’m surprised by the lack of people waiting for the elevator, but I guess it’s early for a Saturday night. The elevator doors slide open, and I step inside, pressing the button for the fourteenth floor.
Just as the metal doors begin to close, Rowan’s large body slips inside. He presses my back to the wall, his hands on my cheeks, and his lips crash down on mine. I make a noise of surprise at his firm, pressing lips.
His hands shift to the bar on either side of my hips, locking me into place and pushing me against the glass elevator wall. I inch up on my toes, my heels slipping out of my shoes to meet him halfway. To feel the strength of him. To smell his addictive cologne. To taste his citrus breath after a night of drinking vodka tonics.
Rowan Landry is every bit the kisser his fangirls believe he is. His calloused hands slide up my body, holding my head in place while his tongue slips past my parted lips, gliding into my mouth.
I melt into his strong hold, my mouth opening for him. He tilts my head slowly, moving me to a better angle, allowing his tongue to dive deeper, and I whimper when his hands leave my cheeks and fall to the small of my back as if he can’t get me close enough to him.
I could kiss him for eternity. He’s mastered the art of the slow, easy kiss that moves seamlessly to demanding and wanting.
He ends the kiss, and I shift forward, not wanting him to stop, but his lips travel to my jaw, casting small kisses toward my ear. “I can’t wait to get you out of this dress.”
My hands cradle his waist, sliding under his suit jacket. His muscles are rigid, even through the layers of clothes. Lust pools between my thighs. “How am I going to do my three knocks?”
He chuckles in my ear, igniting a wave of shivers. “Just give me time to ensure the other women I picked up tonight aren’t in my room.” I draw back, and he chuckles again, his palm gliding down my arm until my hand is in his. “Come on.”
As if we’re in a movie, the doors open, and we stumble down the luxurious hallway with spiral-patterned carpet and crystal sconces, unable to stop kissing and touching one another. My eyes clock the room numbers as we pass, my stomach filling with a buzzy sort of excitement the closer we get to his room.
Once we’re outside room 1498, he stops with his back to the door, pulling me toward him, and his kisses turn me into a wild mess. He’s so smooth. Using his free hand, he retrieves his key card out of his suit pocket and presses it to the door to unlock it. I watch the small light turn green, and he pushes the door open for me to enter first.
I raise my eyebrows and walk into his room. “If I find a naked woman in the bed, I’m leaving. You won’t have a catfight on your hands.”
There’s a small black suitcase on the luggage stand, the bed is made, and the bathroom doesn’t appear to have been used. I stare at the perfectly made bed and the tall skyscrapers of Chicago lighting up the night sky outside the window.
“Too bad. I was hoping to see a wrestling match.” He comes up behind me, his hands landing on my upper arms. His voice is low as if we’re not alone.
“Who says you’d be worth me scratching some woman’s eyes out?”
“Because your nipples have been hard all night. Unless that was because of someone else.” His hands slide around to my back, finding the top of my zipper. “May I?”
I suck in a breath and nod, stepping forward a little so he can unzip my dress.
He lowers my zipper, and it feels as though the sound vibrates off the walls in the quiet room. This is it. I’m going to sleep with Rowan Landry.
Once it’s lowered, I hear him suck in a rush of breath, and I really hope it’s because he can see the top of my thong.
“Fuck,” he murmurs.
I turn around and lower one of my straps then the other, letting the top of my dress fall to my waist, revealing my strapless black bra.
His gaze falls to my chest, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “You’re so damn gorgeous.”
I reach back and unhook my bra, dropping it to the floor.
His eyes light with arousal and his gaze roams my body as he strips off his suit jacket, removes his tie, and pulls his shirt out of his dress pants. Stepping closer, his hands cradle my neck, his thumbs running along my jaw before his lips descend on mine.
It’s as if someone shot a starter’s pistol because now that we’re behind closed doors, our kiss is deeper, more urgent. Each of us takes turns dominating the kiss, and we meet one another with the same intensity.
His hands slide down under my dress, his palms grabbing my ass and pulling me closer to him. He’s hard against my stomach, and heat pools between my thighs. I push my dress all the way down to better feel his length.
Once I’m in just my heels and a thong, he steps back, his heated gaze tracing down my body, chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. Watching his avid appreciation for my body makes me ache between my thighs. This. This is what I needed.
