Page 74 of Seeking Vengeance

I wrap my arms around him, sinking in to what feels right. What feels whole. “I’d like to stay.”

20

Layla

“You sure?”The devil enters his voice. “You’ll get more sleep at a hotel.”

I graze my nails along his flesh, awakening goose bumps. “Sleep can be overrated.”

He palms my chin. “It definitely will be tonight.” He kisses me, soft and sweet and slow. Then incrementally, the connection changes. Soft builds into firm. Sweet shifts to wicked. Slow transforms to rabid.

We’re back to being all hands and lips and gasps, and it feels like my decision to stay is paving a brighter future, not inching toward impending doom.

We’re together all night, our bodies either entwined in passion, or collapsed in exhaustion. And in each moment, he treasures me. With his words. His touch. His gaze.

I can’t take one breath without it catching in my chest, the air latching onto feelings that morph and build beyond my control.

When morning comes, I wake to his lips on my shoulder, his whispered words greeting me to a new day. But I drift back to sleep, cocooned in bliss between his sheets.

I don’t know what time it is when I finally wake, the subtle noise in the living area keeping me conscious this time. I left my cell silenced in the kitchen knowing Cole would blow up my inbox as soon as he realized I fled Portland, and there’s no bedside clock in this room.

Matthew is no longer beside me. I can’t see him or smell his intoxicating aftershave. The only thing kissing the air is the faint hint of coffee, which is enough to drag me to my feet.

I contemplate walking out to him in my birthday suit, hips swaying, seductive smile in place. But I’m not that woman yet. After the obsessive adoration paid to my body last night, I’m a few steps closer to sexual confidence. I can sense it within reach—I’m just not quite there.

I grab the black robe strewn on the floor and cover myself as I pad from the room, already eager to place my mouth on Matthew’s.

Too bad Matthew isn’t the one sitting at the dining table. It’s Bishop’s scowling blue gaze that peers over the cell in his hands to look me up and down.

“Morning,” he mutters.

“Morning.” I cinch the gaping lapels higher around my chest as I glance over the open living area, searching for my life preserver.

“He’s not here.” Bishop slaps his cell on the table. “He had to go to the coast for business and didn’t want to wake you.”

“And he asked you to stay with me?”

“Apparently, I’m here to make up for my bad first impression by offering my services. I don’t think he anticipated you sleeping away my entire day, though.”

I focus on the microwave in the kitchen, squinting at the tiny numbers.

“It’s almost twelve.” There’s a bitter growl to his tone. “And I’ve got more than your shit to take care of, so I’m going to need to know the name of your hotel.”

My gaze snaps back to his. “Why?”

“To retrieve your things. You’re staying here from now on, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whisper, raking a hand through my tangled hair. How the hell did I sleep until noon? “But you don’t need to get my things.” The contents of my suitcase are strewn across my suite—lingerie, toiletries. There’s also a whole heap of cash in the safe. “Could you give me a ride instead?”

He holds my gaze, those severe eyes doing absolutely nothing to retract his first impression. “As long as you’re not going to take up the other half of my day. Like I said, I’ve got shit to do.” He pushes from his chair with a jerk of his chin toward a garment bag on the end of the table. “He said that was for you.”

“My clothes.”Thank God.

“Can you be ready in ten?” He stalks for the kitchen, entirely intimidating with his bulky frame beneath his suit. “I’ll make you a coffee while I wait.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” I hustle for the table to grab the garment bag, then rush for Matthew’s bedroom to get changed.

I pull on my now clean underwear, then shimmy into the dress, ignoring how I’m about to do the walk of shame into a five-star hotel, with a bruised face and tangled hair. Not to mention all the fresh marks now clinging to my body from Matthew’s rough kisses and enticing, ruthless hold.

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