Her fingers slide through my hair, and her nails scrape my scalp. I'm vaguely aware of other people around us in the crowded parking lot, but it doesn’t stop me from pressing my hard dick between her legs, wishing there were no clothes between our bodies.
“Hayden . . .” Her sweet moan against my lips snaps me back to reality, and I know we need to stop.
She doesn’t know who I am.
We have a professional relationship.
I nip her bottom lip gently before pulling away from the kiss and begging my body to calm the fuck down. She’s panting as she stares into my eyes.
“I’ll take you to your car.”
She looks hurt by my gruff tone, but I can’t think about it. I grab the handle to the door as she moves out of the way, and I tug it open for her. Rounding the car, I take several deep breaths before climbing behind the wheel.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve always been in control.
We don’t speak on the way back to the hotel, and when I park my car in front, only her car and mine remain. Everyone else has gone home for the day.
We stay in the car for a moment before she huffs angrily and opens the door and climbs out.
Fuck!
I’ve never chased anyone in my life, but that’s exactly what I do as I quickly jump out of my car and reach her just as she’s about to open her own door. “Lola, wait.”
“Why?” She spins around, her eyes darting to mine. “We work together. Tonight was a mistake just like with Gretchen. I get it.”
“You don’t.”
She’s nothing like Gretchen, and I’m surprised she could even compare whatever this is to that. “So then, explain it to me, Hayden. Who are you? Really. What are you hiding from me?”
“I’m nobody, Lola. Literally nobody.”
“Were you a foster kid?”
“No.”
Her eyebrow raises, and I know she thinks I'm lying, backtracking from what I told her earlier.
She rolls her eyes and goes for the door handle, but I block it with my body. “I was never in foster care. I was taken from my parents, but my father’s mother took me in. She didn’t have to, but she did. She hated her son, but somehow she loved me.”
“So, someone was good to you?” Her concern is so genuine it nearly crushes me.
I nod my head and sweep her hair out of her eyes as she looks up at me. “Yes. She was.”
“Is she still . . .” She struggles with the question, but I know what she’s asking.
“No. She died when I was sixteen.”
“You were a minor?”
I hate reliving this shit and huff, scrubbing my hands over my face. “Yes, but I had a job and some inheritance from her. So, I was able to become an emancipated minor, and then I went to college when I turned eighteen.”
“You came from all of that and made it to this?” Her hand gestures toward the grand hotel in front of her car.
I shrug, suddenly uncomfortable with my own success.
When I don’t answer her, I feel her heated gaze on my face even as I look past her like a coward.
“Why did you kiss me?” Her question startles me enough to look directly at her. Her pink lips part, and then she asks another question. “Was it because you had a bad day?”
She’s referring to my fuck-up with Gretchen again, and I hate it. “No.” My tone is too gruff, and she flinches slightly so I quickly add, “I didn’t have a bad day. I had a really good day.”
“Then why did you stop?” Her voice is a husky whisper as her eyes widen with vulnerability.
“I didn’t want to.” I smile, hoping we can move on because my willpower is only so great. “What did you want me to do? Fuck you in the parking lot?”
It was supposed to be a joke, but her gaze only intensifies as she swallows, looking into my eyes. “I think I did.”
Christ. I can’t hear that. “We should leave.”
She nods her head in silent defeat. “I need to go back upstairs. I left my notes in one of the rooms.”
I should let her go alone. It’s safer for me that way, but instead, I escort her inside the building, only turning on the lobby lights and then riding in the elevator with her. My body begs me not to be a pussy.
We’re both single adults.
We walk into the room she indicates is the one with her notes in it, but before she can walk to the room, my hand grabs her wrist, pulling her small body to mine. I don’t think about it as I cup both sides of her face and brush my lips over hers. “I wanted to.”
Her shock is heightened when I kiss her, not letting her say anything to my confession of wanting to fuck her in the parking lot. I want to fuck her every fucking where.
But if I think too much about this, I'll stop.
And I don’t want to stop. We’re both consenting adults, attracted to each other.
I don’t see a problem.
Her small hands grasp my suit jacket, pushing it off my shoulders and to the floor as we continue to kiss in a heated frenzy. I quickly unknot my tie and tear it from my neck before my fingers make quick work of the tiny buttons on her gold, satin blouse.
Fuck, why the hell are we both wearing so many clothes?
I can’t get enough of her hungry mouth. Her hands are working on the buttons of my dress shirt as our bodies drift into the bedroom area of the luxury suite.
“You sure you want to cross this line?” I look at her unbuttoned shirt and the lacey white bra underneath, barely containing her breasts as she pants with arousal, her hands shoving my shirt over my shoulders, leaving my torso bare.
Her right hand slides over my left pec and then my right, over another scar, a much lighter, thinner one than the one on my hand, but she still found it. I let out a hiss of arousal when her head dips down and her tongue sweeps over the scar. “I’m tired of being in control all the time.”
Her hands roam over my stomach muscles, and I watch her heated gaze on my abs as they ripple at her touch. I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on. Or the last time I craved someone’s kiss as much as their touch. My mouth darts back to hers.
My hands find the thin belt around her waist and unfasten it, quickly pulling it through the loops and dropping it to the floor. “I like you in a suit, Hayden.” Her voice is sultry and full of desire as her finger trails through the ridges of my abs. “But I definitely like you out of a suit too.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” I wink, which causes her to roll her eyes. But she gnaws on her lip in anticipation as her eyes drift below my belt.
Fuck. I can’t remember the last time I was this fucking nervous for a girl to see me naked. Not that I have anything to be nervous about, but damn the way she’s looking at me . . .
I don’t know how to describe it.
There’s an innocence there, a naivete I didn’t anticipate.
Maybe I'm imagining it.
She takes a deep breath and then her lips attack mine again, telling me how badly she wants this as my hardness presses against her, and she moans into my mouth.
A condom would be a good idea.
Her lips are on mine though, and the feeling is too fucking good as my tongue darts into her mouth, enjoying every second. I unzip her skirt, and it falls to the floor. The need to look down is too great when she’s left in panties which match her bra. In this moment, she looks almost angelic even with her hair tangled by my hands and her lipstick smeared by my lips.