Down and Dirty(10)

…

Cat smothered another semi-hysterical laugh and stepped into the elevator. She pressed the number twelve, then, on whim, frantically batted all the other numbers in between like she was playing Whac-A-Mole.

Now you’re just stalling.

She couldn’t argue with herself there. She’d definitely been stalling. After walking Lacey back to her room, she’d felt a sudden burning desire to play the slots. Two hours, four drinks and three hundred dollars later, she was tired enough that her eyes were stinging, but it took all her courage to leave the casino. Scared to be in the same room alone with Shane Decker. Because, after six months of self-imposed celibacy and almost a decade of wondering, she didn’t know if she’d be able to keep her hands to herself. And after the second drink—or was it the third?—she’d started thinking that maybe Lacey was right. Not about the “opening up and giving a guy a real chance” thing. Not happening. But the whole “getting Shane out of her system” thing had seemed like a better idea with every sip.

The desire had been too deeply buried to make the official print version, but if she was being totally honest with herself, finishing what she’d started with Shane was hella-high on her mental bucket list. Now, though, with nothing but an elevator ride and a short hallway between them, she was seriously considering knocking on Lacey and Galen’s door and asking if she could crash on their couch.

Because what if he turned her away? Again.

“Stop it, you chicken.”

She was overthinking. And overthinking was Lacey’s bag, not hers. Cat Thomas was a doer, and she was so doing this. Her brain reeled back to the thought of Shane in his snug T-shirt, and she allowed herself to embrace it. It was time to put this thing with him to bed. And after that? He’d go back to California at the end of the month and everything would be fine.

After stopping at every floor, the elevator finally reached twelve, and she stepped out. She made her way down the hall on trembling legs, arriving at her door too soon. Another chuckle threatened and she bit her lip. The pleasant buzz she’d been working on was disappearing fast in the wake of her nerves, and she briefly considered heading back down for one more nip of liquid courage.

“Wuss,” she muttered under her breath. She was done acting like a virgin on her wedding night. She was a grown, powerful woman asserting her sexuality. And while Shane may not want to want her, there was no hiding the masculine appreciation in his eyes earlier.

With a toss of her head, she reached in her bag, bypassing the four-pack of condoms she’d picked up at the hotel drugstore earlier, and palmed her keycard. She slid it slowly into the slot then pulled it out. The resulting snick reverberated in her head like a shot. Surely it hadn’t been loud enough to wake him, had it? If she had to face him first she’d never be able to go through with this.

Before her courage could flag any further, she opened the door and stepped into the room, then closed it softly behind her. It was pitch black and silent, except for the sound of Shane’s low, even breathing. Thank God.

She paused, briefly considering whether to change into her nightclothes before getting in or just stripping down. The image of climbing into Shane’s bed in her Star Trek T-shirt and ratty boxer shorts had her choking back more laughter. She’d have to go with option B.

She felt around for the dresser, then laid the keycard on top. She toed off the stilettos she’d had on all night and made quick work of her blouse and skirt. When she was down to bra and panties, another wave of nerves hit, and she stopped. They could deal with those once she was in the bed with him. She reached into her purse and pulled out the box of condoms. Then, on tiptoe, she padded across the carpet, moving at a snail’s pace in an effort to get across the room, toes unstubbed. When she reached the bed closest to the door, she laid a gentle hand on the covers. Cold and still neatly tucked in. Her heart thumped faster as she faced the second bed, hand outstretched.

He was there. She could feel the heat pouring off him. An earthy, male scent permeated the air, and she moved closer, letting her hand drift down. For the first time since she’d decided to do this, a bolt of pure desire sliced through her, leaving her doubts in tatters. Her fingertips came into contact with warm skin, and she drew back with a gasp. Wrong side of the bed, but luckily, his breathing stayed steady as she hurried around to the other side. She laid the condoms on the bedside table, then pulled back the covers, breath suspended, and climbed in. The sheets on her side were chilled, but she suppressed a shiver as she waited to see if she’d disturbed him.

Still nothing. Sweet.