“Yes, butterfly?”
My eyelids suddenly feel heavy and I close my eyes for a second, gathering my next words. “Take me back to your hotel room.”
He’d made plans for us to go out dancing after dinner—that’s where we are headed, right down the street from the restaurant we’d just left—but I was in the mood for a different kind of dancing. And by the look in those honey eyes that had darkened with lust, I could tell that he was ready for another kind of dancing as well.
Before I can speak my next words, his hand goes up, flagging down a passing cab. As soon as it pulls over, Emanuel opens the door open and helps me inside. He quickly tells the driver the name and address of our hotel, and we are off in a matter of minutes.
A silence grows between the two of us. The comfort of my hand in his as he firmly holds onto it is almost enough to keep the doubts from creeping in. Unfortunately, years of overthinking and analyzing begin to resurface. Am I making too rash a decision? Will he look at me differently if I go through with this? Does it even matter? Will it be worth it? Will I satisfy him?
That final question is the one that has me holding my breath and biting my lower lip.
“Look at me,” he commands firmly, pulling me out of the musings of my imagination and back to those sexy as sin eyes of his.
I stare up at him as he cups my face.
“Stop thinking so damn much. Just feel.”
I swallow and nod.
But my thinking is really put to a halt when he kisses me again.
I don’t know how long we remain in that particular lip lock, and any thoughts I might have about what the driver must think of us full-on making out in the backseat of his cab don’t even come to mind. All that matters is that Emanuel doesn’t stop kissing me.
Chapter Six
Emanuel
A better man than I would probably ask if she is certain she wants to do this. A more admirable man would see the nervousness in her eyes and opt to take her back to her hotel room. Hell, an exceptional man would even choose to stay with her in her hotel room, talking all night until she or they both fall asleep, to ease her worry.
But I am not that man.
As I stand in front of Nadine in my hotel room, with all of the lights turned on so I can see the entirety of her body, I know I am weaker than the man I just described. Because as I allow my eyes to rove over the dark brown hue of her skin as it shines against the red fabric of her dress, and the way her legs look extra sleek and toned due to the high heels and revealing split, I know there is no way this woman is leaving this hotel room without my having tasted, touched, and viewed every inch of her frame.
But she is nervous.
I can see that in the way she keeps shifting from one foot to the other. And by the way she keeps chewing on her lower lip. I glance toward the hotel’s bar. There’s an array of drinks I could offer her but I won’t. We’re going to do this sober, in our right minds, so that when we both leave this country, the memory of this night will remain forever with the both of us.
Stepping closer, I take her face into my hands. Her hands immediately go up, encircling my wrists. I pull her face to me and she acquiesces in a way that has me wondering what it would be like if I made her mine. Permanently.
I push that thought right out the window. She’s leaving tomorrow. I’m leaving a few days later. No need to complicate this thing.
“I’m going to strip you naked … except for the heels. Those are staying on for a little while longer,” I say.
Her breath hitches in surprise. She wasn’t expecting those words.
“Turn around,” I order, releasing her face.
“Why?”
“Turn around,” I repeat more sternly, moving her body with my hands.
“Oh,” she says as she takes in the vision in front of her in the full-length mirror.
I place a kiss to her shoulder, and she shivers. I begin to lower the straps of her dress, letting the tips of my fingers trail down her arms as the top of her dress lowers. I swallow and more and more of her smooth skin is revealed. When the dress reaches her hips, I don’t stop there. I push the dress over her hips and let it flow freely to the floor.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” I growl just before wrapping my arm around her waist and burying my face into the crook of her neck.
“That feels nice,” she whispers, leaning her body and head against my chest.
