Page 52 of Love.V2
“Seemed presumptuous.” My eyes snagged where Tess was pressing her teeth into her bottom lip. I was so busy staring at her—bright eyes,flushed cheeks, and the long, loose stride of a woman thinking about sex—I almost flew right by our rooms.
“Presume as much as you want. All over me, even.”
God. She was so funny. And sexy. How did she deliver such ridiculous innuendo and still manage to turn me inside out? Her eyes traveled from my bobbing throat down the row of buttons on my shirt. Lower. Her finger stroked the same path.
“So…your room, or mine?” she practically whispered, tilting her head back to look at me with enough heat to start a blaze. I nearly groaned.
“Your room,” I started, pointing to the door on the left. Tess opened her mouth. “And, my room. I’ll be in touch.”
I swiped my keycard, leaving Tess, a cloud of lust, and her baffled expression in the hall behind me. My suitcase landed on the bed before I even looked around.
Didn’t matter. Hotels were pretty much all the same. Next door, I heard Tess’s latch click closed. The muted sounds of her moving around her room filtered through the wall as I yanked two garment bags out of my suitcase.
For this to work, I needed surprise on my side. A little awe didn’t hurt, either.
Only a minute or two had passed by the time I rapped my knuckles on the adjoining door. But when she opened it, her gaze widened, running up and down my body and the suit I’d donned with lightning speed.
Ah, there was that awe. Excellent.
“Um, hello?”
“Told you I’d be in touch,” I answered, grinning at the way she kept looking at me. Like I was an unexpected room service order, but she was going to devour me, anyway.
“Ri-i-ight,” she drawled, glancing behind me, like that would hold the answers to why I was in her doorway looking like I was about to walk a red carpet. “I guess I didn’t realize I’d be so underdressed when you came knocking.”
“Easily remedied.” I handed over a garment bag, praying like hell the dresses in her closet hadn’t lied and she could fit into this thing. She stared at the bag before delicately looping the hanger over her fingers. I checked my watch.
“It’s almost five-thirty. You have two options. Get ready fast, and come have a drink at the bar with me. Or…” I trailed off, allowing my attention to wander all over her. I had so many plans tonight, it was hard to keep my thoughts straight.
“Or?” Tess took a step forward, her eyes darkening a shade. The lavender of her hair caught the light streaming from the window. She was perfect. And I was getting distracted.
“Or, get ready slowly. And let me watch.”
“Ready for what?” She sounded breathless. A glance at the mirror behind her showed me I was baring my teeth, wolfish. I wanted to eat her whole.
Instead, I reared back. “Tess, it’s the sixteenth.”
Her brow furrowed. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. The moment she came up empty. “So?”
“You think I’d forget your half-plus-a-month birthday?” I paused, but her face still looked blank. “I’m not missing such an important occasion just because we’re in a different city.”
Understanding dawned. She looked down at the garment bag dangling from her finger. “We have reservations or something?”
“Or something.”
“It’s a work trip. I just assumed we’d eat at a Chili’s and then go at it like bunnies.” She slid the bag’s zipper down while I laughed.
“For your seven-twelfths birthday? Give me some credit. Though, maybe the second half of that is still doable…” I was still laughing when her breath caught in her throat. She stroked the material of the dress. Simple, elegant. It shifted when the light hit just right. Blue like her eyes, then a faint sheen of lavender caught a stray sunbeam.
“Dylan.”
“If you hate it, I have a backup.” I wasn’t laughing anymore. Not when she looked at me like I was the one shining warmth and light down on her, not the sun. I would have given every one of my stock options to freeze this moment and live in it forever. My palms grew sweaty.
“I don’t hate it,” she whispered, stepping even closer. The backs of her fingers brushed the fabric of my jacket.
“Good.”
“This is a little crazy.”
