I smiled. “You don’t have to worry, Cat’s-eyes, I’m a silent witness.”
She pinned her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean that. I trust you. I just wanted to say thanks, for listening. It really helped.”
“I’m glad I could help.” My mouth was turning dry, a pulse in my temples. Go to bed, James, go to fucking bed.
“I really enjoyed myself tonight,” she continued. “A lot.”
“Me too.” I opened my door again and she stood watching me, her toes resuming their tapping. I feigned ignorance, turning back only to wave her goodnight. She looked crestfallen, retreating with rosy cheeks. Her keycard danced in her hands like a fish, skittering to the floor. She cursed under her breath and dived on after it. Her skirt hitched up, outlining the gorgeous perky swell of her ass through the fabric.
Fuck no-one you know, know no-one you fuck.
Fuck no-one you know, know no-one you fuck.
Fuck no-one you know, know no-one you fuck.
I looked into the silence of my room: the perfectly-made bed, the case unopened on the dresser, the cute little tea and coffee tray, and satellite TV, and then, stupidly, I looked back. I looked back at my green-eyed Cat.
She was still watching me, her door half-open.
“Goodnight, James,” she whispered.
“Goodnight, Lydia,” I said, but still I hovered.
We stared at each other, the air thick in the corridor, so fucking thick I could hardly breathe. Finally, she disappeared, sighing as she went and leaving only the creak of her door as it eased its way closed.
I caught it just before the lock clicked.
She spun in shock at the intrusion, but didn’t have time to respond before I was at her, my mouth on hers, hot and heavy and horny as sin. I paced her backwards while she grappled for balance, conceding to my force until she slammed into the wall. She let out a moan, opening her pretty little mouth. Her tongue danced with mine without reserve or restraint, as though she’d been waiting for this moment all evening. Maybe she had.
She tasted fucking gorgeous.
“This is a mistake,” I growled, my mouth still on hers. “A big fucking mistake.”
Her hands fisted in my hair. “Some mistakes are worth making,” she wheezed.
Her neck smelt of Rose, and White Lilly, and a hint of Amber. I licked at her skin, and she shuddered against me, tilting her head back to grant me access. I roved my way up to her ear, teasing at her earring with my teeth. I heard her murmur as I nipped the lobe, enjoying the short, raspy song of her breath.
“Yes...” she moaned. “Please... I like it rough.”
I pressed her tight enough to mash her tits against my chest. “How rough?”
Her eyes fell to the floor. “I’m, um, I’m trying to find out.”
“Let me help you with that.” Her fingers gripped my shoulders, her head lolling back as I grazed my teeth down her throat. She groaned at my touch, bucking against me for more. Sweet fucking Jesus. My dick strained in my suit, craving the silky soft heat inside her.
I backed up enough to palm her breast, a perfect handful, the hard little nub of her nipple ripe for my mouth. I dipped my head, sucking her through the fabric.
“Use your teeth... please,” she hissed. An explosion of white heat behind my eyeballs, the beast crying for savagery. I bit her as hard as I dared, a full mouth of delicate flesh begging me for pain. Her breath hitched, and she shuddered, arching her back to give me more.
I admired my work, her rosy nipple dark through her wet blouse, jutting just high of the lace of her bra. I wanted more. Fingers at her buttons, desperate for skin, but she stopped me, scratchy fingers on mine, plucking me away from her. I eyed her, full of questions, but she didn’t answer, just skirted sideways, taking me with her, her hand reaching across the wall. For the light, she was going for the light. I grabbed her wrist on instinct, pinning it above her head with more force than I intended.
“No fucking way, Cat. I want to see you.”
She bit her lip, and this time I did what I’d thought about doing a million fucking times before. I clamped my mouth over hers, hungry and feral and desperate, crazy for the beautiful fucking creature who’d driven me insane. I felt her unravel, bucking against me, her thighs either side of mine, needy for cock. I let her wrist go free, gripping at her ass through her skirt, curling my fingers under the hem. My balls ached at the promise of her tight wet slit, the sight of her spread and exposed and so fucking vulnerable.
“And I want to see you, James,” she said, yanking at my tie. My stomach clenched, the beast flaring on my ribs. The beast. I’d gone fucking mad already, dancing with disaster in Lydia Marsh’s hotel room.