Manaconda(35)

“Upstairs,” she mumbled against my mouth. “Upstairs where no one can find us.”

“Fuck, yes.”





14





Kennedy





Don’t think.




Don’t think.

Don’t think.

The chant was an echo in my brain. The part of my brain that actually still worked anyway. The other eighty percent of me was on board with operation One-Night-Stand.

That was how I had to think about it.

I couldn’t focus on his words in the truck.

I like saying you’re mine.

God, no.

I was an independent woman. I was no one’s anything. Those lessons were deeply ingrained. I could only count on myself.

Don’t think.

Just feel.

Don’t get too close to the flame.

But I could warm myself there. I could taste what it could be like to be his.

The swirling vortex of lust was safe. Not the words. Just the feelings.

He broke away from my kiss and linked our fingers. Not just the way someone would pull someone along.

No, he always linked our fingers as if he wanted to touch every surface of my skin. I glanced down to his wrist. My wallet hung there between us. He’d remembered to grab it.

My heart skipped. So stupid.

My life was in that wristlet—my phone that I hadn’t even bothered to check for hours now. My entire night had become devoted to getting naked with this man.

There had never been a time that my career had been put on the back-burner until him.

Don’t think.

Not tonight. I could pick everything apart tomorrow. When the sex fumes had vanished and I could focus on what was important again.

The chime of an elevator pulled me back into the moment. The lobby was nearly empty. I didn’t even remember crossing the checkered marble floor.

Sex brain, obviously.

He pulled me in front of him as another couple followed us on to the elevator. I braced for the recognition, but it didn’t come. In fact, I was pretty sure the couple had been in the balcony for Hunter’s show.

They were too into each other to notice us. Smoke practically rolled off of them in waves. The guy’s fingers kept disappearing up the side of her shirt. A sultry laugh invited him closer.

Was that what we looked like?

I bumped into Hunter, swallowing a groan when my ass brushed against his erection. He slid a hand along my hip, drawing me closer.

“I can’t wait to get inside you.”

A flush race up my neck to my cheeks. I looked over to our neighbors.

“They don’t even know we’re here. He wants the same thing.” Hunter dragged his knuckle up the curve of my spine. “He can barely stand the thought of not touching her. Any bit of skin is fair game.”

I swallowed a groan.

Two could play this game. I reached back to find the ridge of his shaft. I teased the outline with my nail. The rumble of his chest vibrated through my back. He caught my hand, pressing it tighter to him with a soft moan.

The line of his cock seemed to go on forever.

Photoshopped my ass.

I was actually a little intimidated. It had been a good long time since I’d had sex with anyone, let alone someone that was able to pull of a moniker like manaconda.

The elevator dinged. We broke apart. The girl gave another sinful laugh and pulled her guy out of the car. When the doors shut again, I turned in Hunter’s arms.

“Cameras,” he whispered against my mouth.

Frustration soared. Cameras everywhere. Fans, record executives, managers, bandmates—the list was endless. Would we ever be alone?

Finally, the doors slid open. The corridor blissfully empty. I took his hand, dragging him along behind me for once. “What room?”

“Eight-thirty-seven.”

A suite.

My skin bloomed with goose bumps.

Space to spread out. Extra walls for privacy. The door came into view, a keycard slapped against the sensor, then he was shoving me through the door. I pushed at his shirt as he flicked on lights. Muscles rippled under my fingertips. He was smooth save for a line of hair above his buckle.

A necklace was hidden under his shirt. I’d seen it before.

Rosary.

Not a necklace.

The warm wood beads snaked over my forearm. He reached behind his neck to help me drag his shirt over his head. Broad-chested and tapered at the waist, he was gloriously cut.

I went right for his buckle, jerking at the tail to free it from his jeans. I pushed him into the chaise by the window. “This chair?”

“What?”

“Is this the chair you were talking about?”

He swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple bounced. “Yes.”

I bunched my skirt up to crawl on top of him.

“Off.”

I stepped back, my stomach fluttering at the way his jaw tightened.

“Off?”

“The dress. I want you naked.”

I spun on my heel slowly, lifting my arm up. “Well, then unzip me.”