Page 5 of Entirely Yours
I get my coat and wave goodbye to Tim and Sophia, who are headed out the back door. Tim has been a good boss, but he’s not a sentimental guy. He gave me a pat on the back when I turned in my two weeks notice, and that’s about as much affection as I’ve ever seen him give anyone.
I, however, tend to be overly sentimental. I meet Jules at the front door, pausing to take the bar in one last time. It’s not like I’m moving that far away, but this place has felt like a home away from home since I started—back when I had to leave the ballet company at sixteen-weeks pregnant because I was starting to show.
The neon beer signs, the hodgepodge of photos up on the walls, the worn-down dance floor where Chloe took some of her first steps—it all carries memories, both good and bad.
I feel Jules’ hand slide across the small of my back, as if he senses I need some comfort in this moment. “You ready?” he whispers.
As ready as I’m going to be. “Lead the way, TBD.”
He raises a single brow at me but doesn’t ask any questions, so I don’t give him any answers.
We walk out of the bar and cross the deserted cobblestone street. I’m usually exhausted by the end of a shift, but the thrill of what I can only describe as a crush—God, it’s been so long since I had a crush—has me wide awake.
Jules’ hand drops away from my back as he reaches out and opens the door to the small hotel lobby. It’s plain but tidy. There’s an older woman working the front desk—well, she’ssleeping at the front desk. We stride right past her and go straight to the elevator.
I watch Jules slide his hands into his pockets, leaning against the wall as we wait. His forearms are on full display, corded and muscular. My eyes track up his arms to where his button-down shirt covers, and I give myself a moment to imagine what he looks like underneath. The elevator dings, my eyes popping up to his smug smirk. Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
Once we are inside, Jules pushes the button for the eighth floor and turns toward me. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” he says. “I’m fine if you just want to talk or watch a movie. I—” He scrubs a hand across his trimmed beard. “I would never pressure you, Thea.”
It’s the way he says it that makes me decide to kiss him. So much conviction, like he actually means what he says. A trait I’ve found that’s hard to come by in most men.
So, I step closer to him and angle my face until my lips are just a breath away. “I know,” I breathe just before my lips meet his.
Now, it’s been a while since I’ve kissed anyone that wasn’t four years old with peanut butter and jelly smeared across her cheek, but holy shit is kissing always like this?
Jules’ lips are soft, his stubble tickling my skin, creating the most delicious sensation. I’m enjoying it so much that it takes a few moments for it to dawn on me that he’s not really moving. I pull away suddenly, my face on fire as I realize that maybe his way of getting out of doing anything physical tonight was telling me that we could just talk or—oh God, watch a movie.
I can’t watch a movie with him now that I’ve made a complete ass of myself! I have to get off this elevator.
“I’m so sorry if that’s not what you wanted.” I panic-press the lobby button, which does absolutely nothing since we’re already heading up. “I think I completely misinterpreted…” My sentence trails off when I look at Jules, and he’s glowing in the elevator light, like some sort of sex god.
He prowls toward me until my back is pressed against the wall. The elevator dings, alerting our arrival to his floor, but Jules completely ignores it. Both of his hands come up to push my hair behind my ears before trailing to the back of my neck.
“I think you are,” he whispers, tilting my head back. “Exactly what I want.” His lips meet mine again, and I fuckingmelt.
Vaguely, I’m aware of the elevator doors beginning to close and Jules sticking his foot out to stop it. His hands slide down my back, over my ass, to my thighs, urging me to jump. I’m slightly taller than average but so is he, so my legs easily wrap around his waist.
I’m instantly aware of something else that feels larger than average as Jules starts walking us out of the elevator and down the hall, his lips staying connected to mine, further confirming his sex-god status.
We stop in front of a door about halfway down the hall. Keeping a solid hold on me with one hand, he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out the keycard, and kicks the door open.
“You. Are. Perfect,” he whispers into my neck as we walk into his hotel room, each word punctuated with a nip to the delicate skin there.
I groan. “You aren’t drunk, are you?” I don’t know why I feel the need to double check everything with this man before letting him just have his way with me.
“The only thing I’ve had to drink was the beer that I sipped for nearly two hours while I worked up the courage to talk to you,” he replies.
“Oh.”
His dimples pop. “Yeah… ‘Oh.’”
And then he lays me out on the bed, pulling back slightly to look at me.
I still have my puffer jacket on, but I didn’t bother to zip it since we were only walking across the street. As I sit up, Jules falls back on his knees. I remove my jacket and then think,Why the hell not?and start to take my shirt off too.
“Wait,” Jules says, stopping my hand.
“You really know how to kill a girl’s confidence,” I huff.
