I knew I needed to object, to make him put me down, to go back to my own damn hotel.
But, well, it felt good to be held. Just for a moment.
So I sank into the sensation, into him.
“You take the bed,” he said as he lowered me down and pulled the covers over me.
“It’s a big bed,” I said, glancing up at him.And I was going to get out of it and go back to my hotel room eventually, dammit.
“Sure?” he asked, swiping my hair off my cheek.
I gave him a little nod.
He moved back toward the doorway to hit the light, letting just the moonlight stream in through the room.
He toed out of his shoes, his socks, then moved over to the dresser to take off his cufflinks and watch.
His tie was next.
His jacket.
My chest tightened as my breath caught. And as he started to unbutton his shirt, my pulse found a frantic rhythm, pounding in my chest, throat, and wrists.
When he whipped off the shirt, though, there was a matching pulsing sensation somewhere else entirely.
Why did he have to be so damn attractive?
Couldn’t I have married some boring, unappealing, rude guy?
The whooshing sound of his belt pulling free of the loops had me pressing my thighs together to ease the growing ache between them.
My breathing went fast and shallow as I watched his hands go to the button and zipper of his slacks.
His gaze cut to me, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut, hoping I wasn’t caught.
I heard his pants hit the ground and felt a tug of disappointment that I couldn’t look again before he moved to the other side of the bed and climbed on.
It wasn’t until he was settled that I spoke.
“Harrison?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“How did you find me here?”
“I figured there was only one reason you’d be flying out.”
“A poker game.”
“Yeah. And I have a friend I’ve done a lot of business with out here who is a pretty serious recreational player. I made a call.”
My back was to him, but I nodded anyway as the silence grew long between us.
“Harrison?” I called again.
“Yeah?”
“Why did you follow me out here?”
