Bad Behavior(122)

We dug in and ate and talked like normal people through the meal . . . well, if normal people discussed murder cases and blood-soaked wooden carvings. My mind eventually settled down, but my heart skipped at odd intervals when he looked at me a certain way. As if he knew me, the real me.



       
         
       
        

I was too stuffed for dessert, but he ordered it anyway. I was glad. It was the most delicious chocolate bread pudding I'd ever had in my life. Light and fluffy with a cream sauce that was beyond decadent.

I placed my napkin on the table and almost knocked over my empty wineglass.

"You in your cups, Ms. Montreat?" He smiled.

"Please." I gave him a limp-wristed wave. "I can hold my liquor." Truth be told, I was tipsy.

Wash insisted on paying the tab, and we met the chef on the way out. Wash pulled me into his side as we shook hands and thanked the chef for the excellent food. My curves melded into his hard body, and we were suddenly a cute couple, smiling and talking to the chef at a fancy restaurant. No longer the hardass and the class clown, we'd become something else for the night. Would we change back at midnight?

He led me into the lobby and, instead of turning toward the front door, headed for the elevator.

"What are we doing?" Excitement coursed through my veins like jet fuel.

"I got a room for the evening. You don't have to stay if you don't want to. But I would like to show you the view before you go, if that's all right?" He never stopped his confident stride as he smiled down at me.

I affected a scandalized tone. "Well, of all the presumptuous, self-centered, overconfident things you could do, Mr. Granade." I toned down to a stage whisper. "Is there more wine up there?"

He laughed and ran his hand down to my hip, pulling me into him. "Yes, but I don't want you drunk. I want you more than capable of consenting." He kissed my hair. "And remembering everything I'm going to do to you."

Fuuuuck. It wasn't a good idea to get on the elevator with him. I did it anyway. It was a worse idea to let him push me against the wall and run his hands along my body until I moaned. I did it gladly. The worst idea of all-walking into the penthouse suite with him and being utterly entranced by the view of the French Quarter. Done and done.

He opened one of the glass doors to a patio, and we stepped out. Jazz wafted through the streets, and the smell of beignets or some other sugary food was heavy on the air. The river was down the street, the water glinting in the moonlight. He came up behind me and wrapped me in his arms as I soaked in the city.

"You like it?" He nuzzled into my hair.

"This is beautiful. The last time I was this close to Bourbon Street I was flashing my-" I cut myself off, barely. "I mean, I was just sightseeing, you know. Usual stuff."

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and into my shoulder blades. He let go of my waist with one hand and drew my hair from my neck. When his breath played over my skin, I sighed, the sound carrying everything I wanted from him and worried about in one note. 

"You don't have to stay." His fingers tightened into my hip, and he nipped at my shoulder with his teeth.

"I want to."

"You sure?" He tugged at my hair, pulling my head to the side and sending his warm breath down my neck, chill bumps erupting along my skin. He still hadn't kissed me. He'd kept his word.

I leaned into him, his hard length pressing into my lower back.

His hand traveled from my hip to my breast. He palmed me, squeezing the mound. My heart raced, and I put my hand over his as he kneaded me.

"God, Wash." It was an exhale of pure desire. I wanted him so badly I was certain I'd do anything he asked right then and there.

He turned me so quickly I would have fallen if it weren't for his arms around me. He leaned in, his lips so close to mine I could almost taste the heady wine lingering on his tongue.

"I want you, Caroline. I want you so badly I can't even think sometimes."

My heart tripped over itself so hard I thought it might be down for the count.

"Can I have you? Can I have you tonight?" His voice was a deep rasp, and his gaze darted to my lips.

I couldn't look away from him. Nothing could have ripped me from his grasp. I was lost. He'd won. "Kiss me."

He crushed me in a burning kiss, his lips firm and his tongue exploring. If he'd held me any closer, I would have been on the other side of him.

I twined my arms around his neck and opened wider for him, giving him every bit of access he demanded.

He groaned into my mouth and gripped my ass, lifting me so that I wrapped my legs around him. My heels clattered to the deck as he walked me through the suite and into what I assumed was the bedroom. I was too busy enjoying his mouth. The way he kissed was something that should be taught as a freshman requirement. I didn't want to breathe if it meant I wouldn't get to feel his lips anymore.