“It’s getting kind of loud in here,” I say, glancing towards the lobby entrance where the kids have already passed. It’s not, not really. But seriously, how do I move this from drinks to sex? How?
“Hmm,” he murmurs, his eyes on me.
“Do you want to go somewhere a little quieter?” I suggest.
He pauses, glass halfway to his lips, and looks at me in surprise. I must really suck at this. Is my sister right? Ugh. It pains me to even think it. Lord help me if I ever have to admit it out loud. My sister is rarely right, but she might be this time. I might be incapable of pulling this off.
“Cutting right to the chase, are we?” he questions, a small smirk on his lips. “I had you pegged for another two rounds of hemming and hawing before you were up for it.”
Up for it? Does that mean sex? I eye the cherry in my glass again then force myself to look him directly in the eyes. I hold his gaze for three seconds before I speak. It worked the first time, right?
“Look, I’m a sure thing,” I tell him with a small shrug while shifting my eyes away then back.
“Are you?” The amusement on his face is clear.
No. I’m not a sure thing. I’ve never been a sure thing. But I’ve never been Rose before either, so to hell with it—tonight I am.
“Yup,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
“Hmm,” he says again and so help me, his murmur is the sexiest freaking thing ever. He tilts my glass and reaches inside with a single long finger, pulling the cherry to the rim. Extracting it, he holds it to my lips and I open my mouth and take it from him, my tongue sliding under his fingers as I pull the sweetened fruit from his grip. I roll it across my tongue and look into his eyes, wondering what’s next.
“Well, let’s go then, shall we?”
Oh, shit. I swallow the cherry and worry for a second that it’s going to stick in my throat and I’ll choke. Did I really just tell a complete stranger I’m a sure thing?
CHAPTER TWO
Jennings
She’s lying, this girl. I’m not sure what she’s lying about—her name for starters, who knows what else. Not that it matters. I don’t really give a toss, do I? She’s a distraction, nothing more, a very welcome and unexpected distraction before the beginning of a dull but hopefully informative week.
A sure thing, she said. I stifle a chuckle as I hit the lift call button and add that to her list of lies. I sent her the drink after I caught her looking at me in the bar but I didn’t expect it to lead anywhere. I expected, based on her shy smiles, that she was interested enough to allow me to sit with her. Pass an hour or two in conversation before she demurely excused herself with talk of an early morning. When she sucked in a breath and made the comment about moving to a quieter location, she surprised me. When I tilted my head in question and she blurted out, “I’m a sure thing”—well, fuck me.
“Rose,” I say as the lift doors open. There’s no response, her head buried in her phone as she attempts to discreetly tap out a text. If I had to guess I’d say she’s sending a safety check to a friend. Ensuring her phone GPS is on. She likely snapped a photo of me when I wasn’t paying attention and sent that too.
She’s cute.
“Rose,” I repeat while laying a hand on her arm. She looks momentarily confused, a flash so brief I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been looking for it. She’s definitely not called Rose.
She smiles and precedes me into the lift as I wonder what brought her here, to this hotel and to this moment. Boredom? A bad breakup? Trying to prove to herself that she’s desirable?
I’m happy to help with that.
But I can’t call her Rose. When she remembers this night it shouldn’t be with another woman’s name on my lips. And she will remember this night.
The lift doors close and I turn to her. She’s wearing a short-sleeve shirt, her breasts forming an exquisite curve under the material. I run the tip of my finger down her bare arm and watch her nipples harden as her eyes move to mine, then to the lift control panel and back again.
“Are you suggesting we have sex in this elevator? Because if you’re fast enough to come before those doors open again, I’m not actually interested.” Her brow creases and her face is a mixture of regret and arousal. This time I do laugh as I reach past her and hit the button for three.
“No, love. I wasn’t suggesting a romp in the lift,” I assure her and move closer without touching her. Her pupils widen and her chest rises as she sucks in a breath and tilts her head back to meet my gaze. She’s wearing a knee-length skirt and heeled sandals on her feet. The skirt flows and would easily accommodate the spread of her legs if I were to boost her off her feet and wrap them around my hips. It’s a tempting thought, and she’s slight enough that she’d be easy to pick up and fuck against a wall. But no, that’s not in my plans for her tonight. I can definitely spare her more than a few minutes of my time.