As she walked into the small room, he tossed her a lop-sided grin, his ocean-blue, blood-shot eyes barely focused. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself.” Zuri stood beside the machine, hugging the bucket to her chest, wondering if the blonde was responsible for his state of undress.
“Good night?” He seemed to swallow the words while trying to hold in a burp.
She couldn’t hide her amusement. “Not as good as yours, I don’t think.”
The handsome stranger slowly nodded in agreement and returned his attention to the cascade of ice slowly pouring from the dispenser. As the last cubes fell, he picked up his bucket with an unsteady hand, took a few wobbly steps toward the door, opened it, and stumbled out.
As she took his place and waited for her ice to dispense, Zuri chortled at the scene, hoping that the guy was at least sober enough to find his way back to the right room and to whomever was probably waiting. Retrieving her bucket of ice, she secured the cover, opened the door, and stepped back into the hall. But as she turned to head back to her room, the squelching sound of wet feet in rubber sliders caused Zuri to glance over her shoulder.
She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart skipping a wild beat. She couldn’t believe her eyes, but there was Kyree, heading in the opposite direction, his back to her, wearing nothing but a pair of light blue swim trunks and a white towel draped around his neck. She would recognize that panther-like gait anywhere––the image of those jeans hugging his tight ass when he’d walked away from her to take his call was indelibly seared into her mind. But now…oh lord, now… He was tantalizing in his near-naked state: yard-wide shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist, powerful thighs and calf muscles rippling beneath smooth dark skin.
Sweet Jesus. He was potent. Her pulse hammered in her ears.
Zuri took a calming breath. Go back to your room, her brain insisted. You don’t even know this man.
But her body had other ideas; it wanted to know his in every sense of the word––his smell, his taste, his weight, his touch…
Wasn’t this the reason she’d planned this trip? To get back in the saddle, and shake off the memory of her ex? With that reminder, desire easily trumped caution, and before she could talk herself out of it, her feet were moving swiftly, the ice clinking softly in the polished silver bucket in her arms.
* * *
With the scent of chlorine heavy on his damp skin, and a restless energy threading through his veins, Kyree stopped at his door and pulled his keycard from the slot on his phone case. He was about to swipe it when a clinking metallic sound and a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision made him pause. He turned to see who was behind him and froze, blinking once, then twice, just to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind all night––those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes, the way the left side of her mouth lifted slightly when she smiled, and her scent, warm and sweet with a hint of vanilla, wrapping around his thoughts like velvet.
He’d thought he’d at least charmed her, that he might actually have a shot at getting her number, but when he’d gone back to the table to find an entirely new group being welcomed by the waitress, and Zuri nowhere in sight, he’d dragged himself back to his room, feeling defeated and dejected.
Too restless to sleep, he’d quickly changed and gone down to the pool to clear his head and cool his blood. Yet, after thirty laps, pushing himself until his muscles burned and his lungs screamed, thoughts of Zuri, the woman he knew hardly anything about, still filled his head.
And now, after disappearing without a goodbye, here she was, stalking him down the hallway like she owned the entire floor, and was about to own him. She was smoking hot, her rich brown skin glowing under the muted hallway lighting, and looking like a cat ready to pounce––Kyree didn’t mind being her mouse, not one bit.
He placed his hand on the door handle, his heart rumbling, his skin itching in anticipation.
“Hey,” she said, stopping in front of him, her eyes deep and expressive, the simple word, delivered in her warm alto, shattering the silence.
Her smile was slow, seductive.
“Hey,” he managed. He could feel desire radiating from her, taste the tension in the air.
He swallowed hard as blood rushed to his head. “Should I be the one worried about having a stalker this time,” he teased, trying to inject a little humor to ease the mounting pressure in his chest.
Instead of answering, she cocked her head and took a lazy, visual inventory of his body—from his full lips, down the hard lines of his torso flanked by the towel draped around his neck, to his damp swim trunks, where her gaze lingered, undeniably, on the very obvious bulge beneath the thin fabric. She slowly slid her tongue across her lips like she was savoring something sweet as her gaze returned to his face, the brazen message in her eyes, bold and unmistakable.
Without taking his eyes off her, he swiped his key card, pushed the door open, and stepped back.
Zuri sashayed past him into the dimly lit suite.
He followed close behind, ready for whatever this incredible woman had in mind. But before the door clicked shut, she spun around, her bucket of ice hitting the floor as she pounced on him like a wild cat, and their mouths collided in an explosive kiss. He dropped his phone and key card as his arms closed around her, pulling her flush against his body. They fell back against the door, their tongues battling in the throes of electrifying hunger and lust that had been building since the moment their eyes met across the crowded lounge.
She tore the towel from his neck as his hands slid down her back, clasping her buttocks through her robe. He lifted her slightly, pressing her into the bulge straining beneath his trunks, the contact sending a violent jolt through them both.
“God,” she moaned against his mouth, hooking her leg around his hip.
He groaned in response to the feel of her soft heat pressed into his hardness and, with fumbling urgency, he untied her robe, pulled it open, and filled his palms with the firm swell of her breasts.
She gasped, her hand cupping the back of his neck, holding him there. “That feels so good,” she breathed, arching into his touch, her head falling back with a sharp inhale. “Yes––right there,” she moaned, her hand trailing down his body heading due south, seeking out his arousal…
