He grins, biting the corner of his bottom lip. "Go for it."
I tap open the phone and try to answer in my best sultry voice. “Hey, there. Jackass. Sorry, but your friend is too busy to talk right now. His face is in between my dripping wet thighs. He’ll return your call when we’re both thoroughly satisfied.” I end the call with a giggle.
He lets out a deep, rumbling laugh. “That was fun.”
I smile. “I hope that wasn’t your boss or anything.”
“It wasn’t. No worries." His fingers curl around mine, and a jolt of electricity shoots up my arm as he tugs around to the front of the bar top. "Come on," he says, his voice thick with heat. "I’m suddenly really fucking hungry."
"Same."
Chapter Three
My pulse races as we sprint through the lobby, Trouble’s strong, tattooed hand still wrapped around mine. I know this isn’t the sanest thing to be doing—following this beautiful, mysterious man back to his room.
Every rational part of me knows this is a reckless decision. But I can’t think of anything I want more right now, and any fear or trepidation I have is trumped by how turned on I am by him. I’m consumed with the need to get out of my reality and into his bed. I can't resist the thrill, and besides, it’s just one night.
We stop in front of the elevator, waiting alongside another couple. My body hums with anticipation.
Even though the up arrow is already lit, I jab the button five more times. “This place only has five freaking floors, how long can this elevator take?”
He leans in close, his deep voice rumbling in my ear. "So eager, aren't you?" His dark laugh sends a rush of heat flooding through my veins. He releases my hand and trails his fingers slowly up my back, cupping the nape of my neck and pulling me closer. His palms are rough and hot. Firm against my skin.
My body reacts instantly, melting into him. His touch is liquid electricity, searing a path along its wake. A heady warmthpulses through me with every slow, deliberate glide of his fingers.
He lets out a low, dark chuckle, fully aware of what he's doing to me.
I can’t wait to turn the tables on him.
The woman waiting beside us glances over, her narrowed eyes sharp with judgment. Her lips press into a thin, disapproving line. I wonder what she’s thinking, but the thought disappears the moment Trouble starts tracing slow, steady circles against the side of my throat with his thumb.
The elevator dings, and as soon as the doors slide open, the couple pushes ahead of us. I hesitate, considering waiting for the next one, but Trouble doesn’t notice. He tugs me inside behind them, and I sigh heavily as I lean against the back wall. He follows, gripping the handrails on either side of me, effectively trapping me between his thick, muscular arms.
He’s so close that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. He’s not touching me at all, and yet I can sense him everywhere. He lowers his face to my neck and takes a deep breath, then he reaches up, tugging the scrunchie from my hair. My curls tumble down around us in a wild mess.
The look in his eyes is so intense, I can feel it course through every inch of my body. “Patience, Angel. I’m going to take care of you.”
The woman gasps audibly, and for some reason, that makes the moment even hotter.
The elevator dings again, and the doors slide open.
“Get out here,” he commands, his voice low and gravelly, as his hand presses against the small of my back.
I step forward, and he follows, the elevator doors closing behind us.
The hallway is dimly lit, silent except for the muffled sound of the woman asking her companion if he thought I was okay. His response is lost as the elevator ascends to the next floor.
A flutter of butterfly wings takes flight in my chest. Everything instantly seems overwhelming—the space too dark, the hall too narrow—like it’s all shrinking around us, pressing us closer together. I spin on my heels to face him, but before I can say a word, he closes the distance.
His hands grip my waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts me, pressing me against the cold metal door. My arms fall to his shoulders, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. He lets out a small, rough groan that I don’t think has anything to do with how heavy I am, and my breath hitches with anticipation.
I have never wanted anyone more than I do this man right now.
We hold each other’s gaze, caught in a small but intense moment. This close, I notice things I hadn’t before. His irises are ringed with blue, a faded bruise lingers around his right eye, and a faint cut stretches across the bridge of his nose. There must have been a fight. I smile, knowing he probably won.
The movement makes his eyelashes lower, his gaze dropping to my lips. “I should open the door,” he whispers.
“You should,” I say.
