Page 83 of Fake it for Keeps

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COLT

The elevator ride to my penthouse felt endless. I kept my hands on Hallie, unable to stop touching her. My fingers traced the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine through the silk of her dress. She leaned into me, her breath coming in short gasps that were driving me insane.

And then I couldn’t stop myself.

I had to kiss her. Fuck the cameras. Security knew better than to say shit about my elevator rides.

I backed her against the elevator wall, caging her in with my arms. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated, lips parted. She looked like every fantasy I ever had.

I kissed her again, harder this time, less controlled. My hands found her hips, pulling her flush against me so she could feel exactly what she was doing to me. She gasped into my mouth, her fingers clutching at my jacket.

“Colt,” she breathed when I moved to kiss down her neck.

“Tell me to stop,” I murmured against her skin. “Tell me this is a bad idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea.”

“Then tell me to stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

I groaned, my teeth grazing the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. She made that sound again—the one that was driving me out of my mind—and arched into me.

My hand slid up her side, my thumb brushing the underside of her breast through the silk. She shuddered, her head falling back against the wall.

She started to say something, but I kissed her again, swallowing whatever protest she’d been about to make.

The elevator dinged, announcing our arrival at the penthouse. I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her lipstick was completely gone now, her hair mussed from my hands, her dress askew.

She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“Last chance,” I said roughly. “You can change your mind. I’ll call my driver and take you home.”

I was hoping she wouldn’t say no, but damn, if she did, I was going to have a very rough night.

“Stop talking,” she murmured. “Kiss me again.”

I did exactly that, walking her backward toward the living room. She stumbled slightly in her heels and I caught her against me.

I pinned her against the wall of my living room, my hands framing her face as I kissed her like I was trying to swallow her whole. She responded with equal hunger, her fingers sliding into my hair, tugging slightly in a way that made me groan against her mouth.

I broke the kiss just long enough to look at her—really look at her. Her chest was heaving, her lips swollen and red, her eyes dark with desire.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmured, then captured her mouth again before she could argue.

My hands slid down her neck, her shoulders, tracing the curves of her body through that champagne silk. I was taking my time, savoring every inch of her, every small sound she made. When my palms cupped her breasts through the fabric, she arched into my touch, breaking the kiss to gasp.

“Colt,” she breathed. Hearing my name like that—all breathy and desperate—nearly undid me.

I kissed along her jaw, down her neck, finding that spot that made her shudder in the elevator. When I grazed it with my teeth, her nails dug into my shoulders hard enough that I felt it through my shirt.

“God, the sounds you make,” I growled against her throat. My hands roamed lower, skimming her waist, her hips, then around to grip her ass and pull her harder against me. “You’re driving me insane.”

“Good,” she managed, then pulled my mouth back to hers.

This kiss was different. Deeper, more demanding. Her tongue tangled with mine, and when she bit my lower lip, I had to press my forehead against hers for a moment just to catch my breath.