Page 253 of One More Kiss

A Stolen Moment

Elizabella Baker

Chapter1

Monica usedthe tiny straw to stir the ice cubes in her Jack and Coke. As the CEO of a billion-dollar company, she should probably be sipping a more sophisticated drink. Something like a dry martini with extra olives. That would certainly match her outfit. Dressed to the nines in a pencil skirt, silk blouse, and stilettos, she was the perfect image of what her position represented, even after several hours on a long flight.

Image was everything. Something that had been drilled into her head since the moment she began working at Carmichael and Silverstein Financial Advisors, although it was now just Carmichael Financial Advisors. A person lost the ability to have their name on the business when they had their business partner's daughter kidnapped, but that was a story for another time.

Back to her original thought, image was everything. Mr. Carmichael's favorite line. She may no longer be just an employee at her company, but that didn't mean she could slack off. She had worked too hard to get where she was today. It was no secret Mr. Carmichael didn't want her to take over. No, that position was meant for his daughter, her best friend, but Ash wanted nothing to do with the business, unlike herself. It just took an extreme event for her best friend to finally put her foot down and walk away.

Now, what extreme event could that be? You guessed it, a kidnapping. Everything changed after that. She had only been given the chance because the former partner was arrested for said kidnapping, not to mention a slew of other charges. Ones that left nothing but messes. Now, even years later, she was still cleaning up those messes, which was why she was in Rome. Sitting at the hotel bar, she analyzed how her lunch meeting would go tomorrow, rather than sleeping. Despite how tired she should be.

Stirring her second Jack and Coke, she felt a tingling run through her body, almost like a lover's caress. Not that she knew what that was lately. It had been so long since she enjoyed a man's touch. Hell, she was wondering if it was possible to be a born-again virgin. But she was feeling it now. Lifting her eyes, she slowly perused the length of the bar until her eyes locked on the most intriguing green eyes. They reminded her of emeralds. So bright and intense, she didn't want to look away. He was holding her hostage, neither of them willing to break the connection. It was a race to see who would win. Fortunately for her, she was competitive. Unfortunately for him, she never backed down.

She considered it a draw when a couple taking a seat on the barstools blocked the connection she was feeling. Dropping her eyes back to her drink, she figured it was probably for the best. She wasn't in Rome for pleasure. Just like every other day of her life for the past three years, she was there for work. Some might call her a workaholic. She preferred "determined." Not to mention that her new position came with more headaches than she ever anticipated. Damn Samuel Silverstein and his greed. But she was one problem away from things running smoother, and one step away from Carmichael trusting her fully. Then, maybe then, he would finally step away and enjoy the retirement he claimed he so badly was ready for.

Monica was pulled from her thoughts when the sound of a stool sliding across the expensive tile caught her attention. Raising her gaze slowly, she cataloged the patron. His black loafers screamed money, but the scuff marks along the soles told a different story. Whoever the man was, he knew how to get dirty. She continued her upward perusal, noting the way his black trousers hugged his lean hips. He was facing her instead of the bar, as if he wanted her to notice him. If that was the case, she would take the extra time to drink him in. She noted the way his shirt stretched over his muscles. That paired with the shoes, and she surmised that the reason for those muscles wasn't from hours at the gym. But it was his face that really caught her attention. She was a sucker for a man with a chiseled jaw and this man right here looked like his was carved from granite.

When she finally met his eyes, she was pleasantly surprised to find they were the exact same green ones she had been staring into just moments earlier.

"Well, hello, handsome." She distracted her hands from reaching out to see if his silky brown strands falling across his forehead felt as soft as they looked, by picking up her drink. No man should have hair that looked that good. It took women hours in a salon to achieve what she assumed was a natural look for him.

"A woman who doesn't back down from a challenge," he quipped, "is exactly the type of woman I would like to get to know."

That one line nearly burst her bubble. She didn't have time in her life to get to know anyone, and really she didn't want to. She had one thing and one thing only on her mind.

"How about you get to know my body and we'll see about the rest later?" She ran her eyes over his toned torso and tight waist one more time. "If you can impress me, that is."

His eyes stayed locked on hers for what felt like an eternity before he finally pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed a few bills on the bar. Grabbing her hand, he didn't give her a chance to protest. Not that she would. She was the one to throw down the gauntlet and, just for one night, she was going to take something for herself. Monica had no intention of letting this guy get to know who she was, no matter how hard he rocked her world. She would take the one night and lock it away for future memories.

She didn't say a word when her mystery man continued to drag her to the nearest bank of elevators. As he hit the button for the fourth floor, she felt the electricity crackle around them. They were barely out of the elevator and into his room when he lifted her up and slammed her back against the now-closed door, forcing her pencil skirt up around her waist.

His lips smashing against hers melted away the last of her worries. It had been too long since she had done anything for herself. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pushed her fingers through his mop of hair and nearly groaned. Damn, it was as soft as it looked. With a slide of his tongue, she opened her mouth and let him devour her. The man could kiss and, if the way his hands were exploring her body was any indication, he was taking that challenge to learn more about her to heart. Too bad he would lose either way. But enough of those thoughts for now.

Breaking the intense kiss, his lips moved along her jaw and neck. Banging her head against the door, she let out a loud moan when his tongue flicked along the sensitive part just below her ear.

"I'm going to have you screaming my name." His hot breath fanned her ear, sending shivers down her body.

"No names." The words just off her lips and he was spinning her and plopping her ass on the hotel room desk.

"Fine, but just know I plan on fucking you on every inch of this damn room until you're too worn out to protest." He thrust his pant-covered cock against her core, punctuating his demand. Big mistake. He would never learn that laying down that provocation was the equivalent of guaranteeing she never told him who she was.

Instead of answering him with words, she reached down and unfastened his belt. She was in a hurry. Her pussy hadn't seen action in too damn long and right now it was dripping at just the mere mention of fucking her repeatedly.

She smiled like the Cheshire cat at the sound of a hiss leaking from his mouth when her hand circled his engorged cock. Fuck, he was big. Her small hand didn't come close to wrapping around it. She needed it inside her. She should be ashamed that she was acting like a bitch in heat, but since she would never see the man again after tonight, all thoughts of shame were disregarded.

The sound of foil ripping was music to her ears. She released him and watched in awe as he slowly rolled the condom over his long length. Licking her lips, she imagined what he would taste like in her mouth. If she only had one night, then she planned to pack as much in as she could.

"You're fucking soaked for me . . ." His fingertips grazed across her wet panties so he knew exactly how turned on she was. "And I haven't even touched you here yet," he growled.

All it took was one brush against her clit and she was detonating. If that didn't scream how deprived she was, then the long moan she released when he slammed into her did.

"Fuck, you're tight," he hissed, but it didn't stop him from slamming into her again.

"It's been a while." She hadn't meant to tell him that. This was supposed to be about a primal need to sate an urge, not connecting with the man.

"Lean back . . . I want to watch my cock fill you up." She obeyed without hesitation.

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