Page 40 of Playing the Field
I pull open the door of the lobby and place my hand on the small of her back to escort her inside. Maybe it’s my imagination, but every time I touch her, it feels like she sinks deeper into my hand, supple and willing.
At the reception desk, I ask for a room for tonight, and the clerk starts typing on her computer, offering me different options. “A suite,” I confirm. “That’s perfect. And how late can we get room service?”
The clerk barely looks up, still typing. “You can get anything from our restaurant menu until eleven, and then the late-night menu until six-thirty in the morning.”
I try to catch Gracie’s eye to confirm my willingness to hang out and eat, no strings attached, but I find her looking at the floor. She takes a step to the side, putting some space between us.
I hate it.
I reach for her and gently put my arm over her shoulders before pulling her back toward me. With her blazer folded neatly over one arm, she takes a step closer, but she’s stiff beneath my arm, so I let it fall from her shoulders.
Bending my head to hers, I tip her chin up so she’ll look at me. “Hey, are you okay? We don’t have to do this,” I whisper. “You tell me what you’re comfortable with.”
She chews on her lip. “I’m a little nervous.”
A loud crush of people comes in suddenly from the bar, and we turn to see a bride-to-be wearing a tight black dress and a veil and holding a martini glass. Her entourage wobbles along next to her in stiletto heels, each woman holding a similar glass, some with olives, others with lemon peels. “Excuse us, we have to get upstairs for our penis cake. It’s an ice cream cake, so, you know…” One of the women makes a wide-armed gesture like she’s parting the Red Sea. “Come, ladies, penis ice cream awaits. When will I ever say that sentence again?”
They all erupt in laughter and totter over to the elevators. Their glee and silliness seem to melt some of Gracie’s nerves. Her delicate fingers grasp mine in a fist and hold them tight.
“I’m good. Really.”
“You sure?”
She nods and meets my eyes. The hesitance in her eyes is gone. “I want this.”
That’s all I need to hear.
CHAPTER 22
Gracie
My heart poundsthe whole way up in the elevator and doesn’t stop when Hunter waves the key in front of the lock and the door clicks open. He hasn’t let go of my hand, but that’s the only place he’s touching me.
His body feels like a magnet with an unavoidable pull. I want him closer, touching me everywhere.
For all the wildness of my racing heart and the almost painful desire deep in my belly, I also feel a weird sense of calm. Hunter must feel it too because he pauses inside the room as soon as the door shuts.
It’s probably a well-appointed room, and I’m sure it has a bed, but Hunter is the only thing I see. He turns me so my back is pressed against the door, and his eyes roam over me from my face downward and back up again. There’s hunger there that I haven’t seen before. Raw, feral, and hot.
Cupping my cheek in his hand, he bends his head forward until our lips barely graze. He holds my face there and moves closer to me, pressing against my hips. My body responds without hesitation, my hips tilting against him to create the smallest bit of friction.
Hunter’s mouth moves against mine, drawing me in with a kiss that gets deeper and hotter with every touch of his lips. My hesitation and nervousness turn into desire, as my heartbeat thrums beneath my rib cage, and I feel short of breath.
And then I’m not breathing at all, so lost in the feeling of Hunter’s body pressed against me in all the right places. Every nerve ending sizzles, and every place our bodies touch lights up with awareness.
I can’t even remember why I was resisting, not when it feels this good to have Hunter’s hands on me. One palm roams over my shoulder, brushing over my waist and settling on my hip. His other hand moves from my cheek into my hair and behind my neck. From there, he guides my face to exactly where he wants it, tilting my lips against his and diving in again.
His tongue finds mine, swirling, sucking, tasting. It’s so good. Too good. My body goes limp against his, but he holds me up with his firm grip on my hip. My head would fall back against the door, but he’s holding that too.
Owning the kiss. Owning me.
The kiss feels like it lasts for hours, and I still need more.
I wanted to know how Hunter Reyes kisses a woman, and he leaves no question unanswered. If this is how he kisses, I can’t understand why any woman who’s experienced it has walked away. I guess it explains his reputation for being a heartbreaker. But I push that thought from my mind for now. He can break my heart all he wants later, as long as he keeps giving me this. All of it. Now.
Hunter breaks the kiss and stares into my eyes. Searching for something. Permission? I already know I’ll give him whatever heasks for. Finally, he shakes his head in a slow, dreamy way. “Holy fuck, Tink.”
I reach up and move the shock of hair off his forehead, the way he normally does, so I can see his face better. I don’t want him letting go of any part of me to do it.
