Page 87 of Crazy In Love
I, Emilia Taylor, was going to let this man do whatever the hell he wanted to me.
I wanted to feel something, even if just for one night.
And I knew that Bridger would make me feel all the things.
The elevator doors opened, and we both stepped on. We hadn’t spoken a word since he’d closed out the check.
Because this was actually happening.
I stood against the wall, with him standing a few feet away.
Watching me.
His gaze moved to my hands, and I glanced down and noticed they were shaking.
Damn it. Could I not play it cool just one time in my life?
I clasped my hands together and tipped my chin up.
“So how does this work? Do we go to your room or mine? Do you have a condom? I don’t carry them, obviously. I wasn’t planning on having sex while I was here. In a foreign land. With you.”
He moved to the panel beside the door and hit a button. The elevator stopped abruptly before he moved toward me, almost predatorily.
He pressed a finger over my lips. “You’re nervous. Stop overthinking it.”
I nodded, my chest pounding so hard and fast I was sure he could hear it.
“I don’t think we’re allowed to stop the elevator,” I whispered. I wasn’t big on breaking rules, and this was definitely not okay.
He pulled his finger back and then leaned down, slowly at first. His lips covered mine. My lips parted, and his tongue slipped inside.
Holy hotness.
His lips were strong yet soft, taking control in every way. His hand slipped behind my neck, dipping my head back so he could take the kiss further. His fingers traced along the back of my neck as he groaned into my mouth.
His tongue slid in and out, tangling with mine, tasting and exploring and driving me completely wild. His knee moved between my legs, and I started grinding up against his thigh.
He pinned me up against the wall, his hand moving to the side of my neck as he pulled back. His eyes on mine as his free hand moved to the waist of my leggings.
“Can I touch you?” he asked, completely catching me off guard.
He was always so in control. I’d already given him the green light. Yet he was still asking for permission.
Considering that I was literally panting and desperate for him to relieve the ache between my thighs, it was an easy question.
I’d never been so desperate for a man to touch me.
Never craved someone like this.
I nodded.
He slipped his hand inside my leggings. “Spread those pretty little thighs for me, angel.”
Angel.
What the actual hell.
What kind of fling was this?
