At the same time, he lifted her off her feet and carried her out of the elevator, letting the door close behind them. Rafe pushed his hand into her hair, cupped her head, and held her as he took the kiss deeper. She softened and swayed into him. And she tasted so damn good, like abandon and bliss and forever. She felt so right, like that missing piece, his other half, his soul mate.
He loved the slide and roll of her tongue. The way she varied the pressure of her lips. The scrape of her teeth over his bottom lip with a little whimper, like she needed more. Like she wanted to eat him.
“What room?” he said, barely clearing his lips from hers to ask before tasting her again.
She tapped the keycard against his shoulder, and he took it from her, all without breaking their kiss. Rafe took one more, long, deep taste of her before he pulled back and fought to focus on the sleeve holding the card for the room number. But Mia’s mouth moved to his neck, then his throat. One hand worked on the buttons of his shirt. The other slid down his belly, past his belt, and cupped his cock through his slacks.
Pleasure ripped through Rafe’s groin, and his entire body jerked. “Ah God…”
He grabbed Mia’s shoulder to steady himself, but that left him defenseless against her assault, and she took great pleasure in exploring every hard inch of him.
“Mia,” he begged, breathless. “Let me read this so we can get out of the hallway.”
“Want to taste you,” she murmured against his throat, but eased the pressure on his cock and lifted her hand to his face. “Want to lick you…and suck you…”
He blinked the white flashes from his vision, read the number, and glanced for room directions. Then stepped away from Mia, took her hand in his, and hurried her down the hall toward the room.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, his gaze blurring over the richly patterned gold-and-green carpet. But what he really meant was he couldn’t believe he was finally doing this. He couldn’t believe he was getting the chance to do this.
He forced his mind off Tate and Joe, men whose trust and respect he would lose if they discovered this fling with Mia. This was just one-and-done. Something Mia instigated. Something Mia wanted.
Justifying it helped him get the keycard into the door. He turned the handle, then pushed the door open and held it for her to go first. The door closed behind him as she flipped on a light, and Rafe paused when he got a look at the room. Correction: the mini suite.
One dim lamp burned on a side table, casting the room in an intimate glow. Everything was done in gold and white. The bed was a four-poster with a matching footstool and nightstands. There were two upholstered chairs with ottomans and a table in one corner, a working desk in another, a curved settee in another.
This was the epitome of Mia’s life now, filled with fashion shows, cocktail parties, and meals at fancy restaurants. She dated suits that took her to the symphony and Broadway.
Rafe had plenty of money, but money didn’t buy sophistication or experience. And as Mia tossed her purse on the stool at the foot of the bed, Rafe was more than a little uneasy to realize he wasn’t sure exactly how to handle a woman who deserved more than a hard fuck and a slap on the ass on the way out.
“This room had to cost a mint,” he said, trying to ease the new nerves with small talk. “That job of yours in New York must be paying better this year if—”
His words cut out as his gaze returned to Mia, her hand tugging on the single tie at the back of her neck.
The dress’s neckline softened, and the fabric fell off her like molasses over vanilla ice cream. Slowly, smoothly, sensually, inch by slow inch, Mia’s gorgeous body came into view until her dress pooled at those sexy heels.
Rafe’s body temperature spiked. His brain short-circuited. He couldn’t breathe. He could only sweep his gaze over her again and again, taking in the black lace bra, panties and naughty garter holding up sheer black thigh-high stockings. All finished off with those flashy heels that screamed do me now and do me hard.
He didn’t know how many women he’d slept with. Didn’t remember names or places or specific encounters. But he knew he’d never met a woman as beautiful or as brave as the one standing in front of him right now.
“Jesus Christ.” The words reached the room as barely more than a whisper. And he couldn’t utter another when she came toward him. This time, he did step back. And he put his hands up. “I… You’re… This is…just so much to take in all at once.”
She smiled and continued toward him, until her abdomen pressed against his hands, until his back hit the wall. She lifted her hands to his shoulders, slipped off his jacket, and tossed it on a side chair. “No rush. We have about eight hours until morning.”