It’s hungry and urgent, her lips parting under mine, her body pressing forward until her back hits the elevator wall. I bracket her there with my arms, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck, and she makes a sound against my mouth that I want to hear again and again.
The elevator starts to move, carrying us down through the building, and I don’t notice anything except her. The taste of mezcal on her lips and the heat of her body against mine, her fingers tightening in my shirt like she’s afraid I might disappear.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open, but neither of us stops. I walk her backward out into the hallway, my mouth never leaving hers. We stumble slightly and she laughs, the sound vibrating through both of us, and I swallow it down and keep moving.
“Which way?” she murmurs between kisses, her teeth biting my bottom lip.
“Left,” I manage, steering us blindly, my hands sliding down to grip her ass and pull her tighter against me. “I think.”
“You think?” She’s laughing again, breathless, her fingers working at the buttons of my shirt. “Very reassuring.”
“I’m distracted.” I back her against the wall and kiss down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling her pulse hammering under my lips. “You’re distracting me.”
“Good,” she says, and pulls my mouth back to hers.
We make our way down the corridor like that, stopping every few feet to press each other against the wall, hands everywhere, mouths hungry. Her fingers finally get my top two buttons undone and slide inside, palms flat against my chest, and the heat of her touch burns through me. I grip her thigh and hitch it up against my hip, grinding into her, and the sound she makes echoes down the empty hallway.
“Room,” she gasps against my mouth. “Dominic. Room.”
“Patience,” I laugh against her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear, but I’m already pulling her with me, walking her backward without breaking the kiss until we finally reach my door.
I press her against it, pinning her there with my hips while my mouth trails down her jaw to the spot just below her ear that makes her shiver. She’s trapped between the door and my body, exactly where I want her, and when I press my thigh between her legs she grinds down against it “Mmm,” she hums, her head falling back against the door, exposing the long line of her throat. Her fingers curl into my hair, nails scraping against my scalp. “Dominic.”
I reach for the key card in my back pocket, fumbling blindly while my other hand stays gripped on her ass, pulling her harder against my thigh. The card misses the slot entirely, scraping against the door frame.
“Having trouble?” she murmurs, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
“You’re not helping,” I say, nipping at her collarbone.
“I’m not trying to help.” She bites down gently on my earlobe and my grip tightens on her hip, a low groan rumbling through my chest.
I kiss her again, deep and slow, and manage to slide the card into the slot without breaking away from her mouth. She bites down on my bottom lip and I groan, finally hearing the click of the lock disengaging.
The door swings inward behind her and I catch her before she can fall backward, one arm wrapping tight around her waist, lifting her over the threshold.
I kick the door shut behind us with enough force to rattle the frame and spin her around, pressing her back against the wall just inside the room.
“God,” she breathes, her head tipping back against the wall, exposing the long line of her throat. “Dominic.”
I press my lips to her pulse point and she shivers, her whole body trembling under my hands. I slide my palms up her sides, pushing her blazer off her shoulders, and she lets it fall to the floor without looking. The red lace I’ve been catching glimpses of all night is right there now, a delicate bralette visible through the sheer black top, and the sight of it hits me square in the chest.
“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” I tell her, my voice rough against her throat. “Every time you moved, I could see this underneath. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
“Why do you think I wore it?” She smiles up at me, wicked and knowing.
Her fingers find my hair, tugging gently, and I let her pull my head back up. Her eyes are dark in the low light, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with each breath.
I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing the sharp lines of her cheekbones, and just look at her. She gazes up at me with those warm brown eyes, and I feel like for a moment our souls are reaching for each other across all the years and all themiles and all the wasted time. My entire life, every choice, every road, every wrong turn, has led me here. To this room. To this woman. To this moment.
And then inexplicably, Alex’s voice echoes in my head. That stupid conversation in my office.The Notebook.And those words he said, smug and certain like he knew something I didn’t.
The one that got away.
“Son of a bitch,” I say quietly, almost to myself as I cup her cheeks. “He was right.”
Brooke’s brow furrows, those brown eyes searching my face. “What?”
I smooth my thumbs across her cheekbones, like I can’t tear myself away, like the whole city could crumble outside that window and her face would still be the only thing I see.
