Something unreadable flickered in his expression. “Sure.”
She smiled, nodding her head in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”
As she washed her hands, she let the cool water run over the inside of her wrists for an extra moment, locking eyes with her own reflection, trying to see what he saw. Blown-out pupils, pink cheeks, a look in her eyes verging on feral.
She looked like someone about to make a big, bad decision.
When she returned, he was sitting in one of the armchairs, both drinks on the table in front of him. She came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and he jerked at the contact.
He glanced up and they locked eyes, her stomach turning molten at the expression on his face, the same one she’d just seen reflected back at her in the mirror. The next thing she knew, his arm was around her waist, pulling her smoothly into his lap, herarms circling his neck automatically, legs dangling over the arm of the chair.
She wanted to laugh, but it died in her throat at the intensity of his gaze. He didn’t kiss her right away, though. He just looked at her, brow slightly furrowed, eyes tracing her face like there was a secret message printed on her skin that he could only decode up close.
She reached up and cradled his jaw in one hand, his late-night stubble rough against her palm, and pressed her thumb gently into his dimple, almost without realizing she was doing it. He smiled, the corner of his mouth rising to meet her thumb, and leaned in, closing the gap between them at last.
It was gentle at first, the way he kissed her. More tender than she’d expected. She could tell how hard he was working to hold himself back, though, from the tension thrumming through his body, his ragged breath; a delicious kind of frustration coiled low in her abdomen as his lips teased, explored, savored, his spring-loaded restraint slowly driving her out of her mind.
“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he murmured. “I just want to…” He turned his head, teeth grazing the edge of her jaw, stopping short of a bite.
She inhaled sharply, then pulled his face back to hers, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth before kissing him deeply, unable to take it any longer. He groaned low in the back of his throat when her tongue brushed his for the first time, one arm clutching her closer, his other hand tangling in her hair.
She melted into the warmth of his body, their kisses turning feverish and demanding, his hands teasing her now, stroking her bare arms and legs, splaying over her waist, touching her everywhere except where she really wanted. Soon, she was squirming in his lap without meaning to, his breath hitching every time sheshifted against the bulge in his jeans, her thighs squeezing together, desperate for relief.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten this worked up from just a kiss, like she might come from the slightest brush between her legs; but then, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was the wait. The anticipation. The way his eyes had swept over her when she’d shown up at the bar, when he’d first seen her in this dress, when they’d sat across from each other in that audition waiting room.
Plus, he couldreallyfucking kiss.
Eventually, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, his voice hoarse. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m Jewish,” she muttered, her brain too scrambled to come up with anything else.
“Well, so was he.”
She giggled, which turned into a whimper as he buried his face in her neck, his stubble scraping the sensitive skin before his lips soothed it, tasting her racing pulse with his tongue. She clung to him helplessly, finding his mouth again, her heartbeat staggering between their shared breaths. His hair was soft between her fingers, just long enough to hang on to, so she did, tightly.
There was no other way this night could have ended, she knew now. It might not go any further than this, making out like teenagers who had nowhere else to go. But it would. It had to. Every part of him she’d lingered over with her eyes felt even better under her palms, and she was feeling selfish, greedy. She wanted more. She wanted to own him. She wanted every hair, every scar, every inch of skin and ripple of muscle to be hers—even if it was just for tonight.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the tail end of acouple of scandalized glances thrown their way, cutting through the haze just in time, yanking her out of the alternate reality where she was seconds away from literally sucking on his fingers in a public bar.
“Shit,” she mumbled, hiding her face in his neck, her cheeks burning. “Do you think…there are a lot of other people staying in this hotel, right?”
His laugh rumbled against her, his palm skating down her back. “Seems like it, yeah.”
“You know what I mean. Upfronts people. UBS people. Do they know it’s us? Are they looking?”
“Some of them are looking. But I don’t think they recognize us. I think we’re just being…”
“Embarrassing?”
“Are you embarrassed?” His voice was low and husky in her ear.
She raised her head, then shook it, surprising herself.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked in that same tone, his hand firm on her upper thigh, rubbing his thumb in soft circles, sending tiny sparks shooting across her skin.
That one was easy. “I really, really don’t.”
“Good.” She thought he’d kiss her again, but instead he just studied her face, reaching up to brush a piece of hair out of her eyes. “Did you know this was gonna happen?” he asked quietly.
