Page 18 of Power Play
I'd caught stray glances while we were at work and thought nothing of it more than a brief attraction. But this? This is a volcano, simmering, bubbling heat, just begging to explode.
I'm on the fifth floor, he's on the sixth. Both numbers are illuminated.
He bends low again, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear.
"If you get off on your floor, I'll respect it, and we'll never speak of this again. If you don't, you're mine tonight. And you're walking into my room with your eyes wide open. I'm no boy scout, Lacey. My... brand of lovemaking isn't for everyone."
A shudder rolls down my spine, and my hands tingle with anticipation. My breaths come faster and faster.
But something stops me.
"For one night," I nearly gasp out.
"What?"
"I'm yours... tonight... for one night. I can't do more."
Somehow, the fact that we're both facing the elevator doors makes my confession easier to get out. I can do this. I can have one wild fling with a gorgeous older man and then go back to work on Monday and act like it never happened.
A small smile tips up the corner of my lips. I think of myself as that old woman in the retirement home, retelling her wild days to her fellow geriatrics. She has no other family, so her fellow nursing homeretirees are all that she has. That and her stories. This will make for an excellent story.
The car stops at five, and the doors open. I hold my breath, and stay rooted to my spot.
When the doors close again, Ward lets out a growl of appreciation, spins me, and grips my hair in a punishing fist. Without preamble, he slams his mouth against mine. Somehow, I knew his brand of sex would be rough, intense, but a part of me fucking craves it. Ben's is sweet, lovemaking, and I appreciate every touch, every kiss, but Ward? Ward is going to fucking destroy me, and there's a deep part of me that needs that.
I try to meet him with the same need, the same intensity, but Ward devours my mouth, his fist in my hair leaving no room for me to move. His lips claim mine, stealing my breath and leaving me gasping as I try to match his relentless hunger.
The car stops again, and Ward pulls away just as suddenly, leaving me dizzy and swaying. His hand on my hip keeps me upright.
He peeks his head down the hallway to make sure we don't get caught. He practically drags me to his hotel room door, swipes his card and nearly throws me inside. When the door shuts behind him with a 'snick' I'm in his arms again.
I gasp out as he moves his assault to my neck. He bites and lashes his tongue across the stinging.
"One night," he growls into my neck. With that boundary in place, I finally allow my mind to shut off and my body just to feel.
He grips my breast in one of his large hands roughly before pinching my nipple. The bite of pain shoots straight to my clit and I moan.
"You like a bit of pain with your pleasure," he growls, his voice low but so intense I can feel it vibrate under my hands across his back. It's not a question, it's a statement. And holy fuck, he's right.
I've slept with men after Ben, but they were casual, one-night-stands. They didn't mean much and because we were so casual no one was willing to test my boundaries. They were all too concerned with being able to stick it in me and walk away.
But Ward isn't like that.
I moan again and he backs me to the sofa before laying me down on it, his large body covering mine.
I'm desperate to feel him. I tug at his shirt with my hands and dig my toes into the pockets of his jeans, trying to tug them down over his hips.
He chuckles at me. "Greedy, too."
I pause and blush, embarrassed. "I don't even know your first name."
"Scott."
If he's upset at all by the fact that I don't know his first name, he doesn't show it. He leans back, pulling his shirt over his head in an easy swipe, revealing wide pecs covered in dark, short chest hair and broad, wide abs. He's not as cut as playing athletes are, but he still clearly takes pride in his appearance. He must shave... everywhere.
I run my fingers up his chest, enjoying the feel of him. His chest and stomach hair are soft, but short enough they tickle my palms and send electricity to my core. Most of the guys are muscular and fit, they have to be, but Scott is built like a warrior, and it makes me feel petite in his hands.
"You'll scream my name when you come," he growls against my neck. Holy fuck.
