Despite her assumption, I’m not feeling so drunk as we get to the hotel, though I might stagger a little as we step out of the lift.
‘Where’s the key card?’ she asks, turning to face me.
‘In my pocket.’
‘Do you want to give it to me?’
‘Always,’ I purr suggestively. ‘Call me conventional, but I’d prefer to get you inside first.’ I press my hands against the doorframe and rock into her as she searches my pockets for the key. ‘Left a little. Yeah, just there.’
‘You’re determined to make this difficult for me, are you?’ she grumbles, but I can hear the amusement in her tone. I love that she gets this. Gets me. Fucking serves it right back.
‘I don’t know about easy, but you’re making something really hard for me.’
‘ThatI can tell.’
‘You’re also making me easy.’ Easily aroused. Easily pleased when she simply looks at me.
‘You’re something all right.’ She turns in the tight space between my chest and the door, mumbling as she swipes the card, complaining when the red light won’t change to green. It could be something to do with the way I’m pressing kisses down her neck or slipping my hand under her blouse. I could become addicted to these curves.
‘A little help here.’
‘For you, anything.’ As she holds the card up, I take it from between her fingertips, then turn her head to kiss her. Soft and slow, our mouths work in unison, and when she whimpers against my mouth, something inside me tightens desperately. The tenor changes in that instant. With my body pressed against hers and my arm banding her waist, I kiss her hard, suck on her tongue, and begin to whisper all the dirty things I want to do to her.
‘Beckett.’ My name is her prayer, my hand between her legs our communion.
‘You should be wearing a skirt,’ I growl into her neck. ‘Like the one with the blue belt.’
‘You remember that, do you?’
‘I remember everything. I wanted to gather it in my fingers. Slide my hands up your soft thighs and into your underwear. Touch you. Taste you. Wear your scent like a cologne.’ And now that I have, I’m not sure I’ll ever be sated.
‘Beckett,’ she moans again, pushing herself into my hand. ‘Take me to bed.’
‘No, not this time.’ I want her here, up against the door, my fingers on her throat, tangled in her hair. Sliding into her arse.
‘You are so . . .’
‘Fucking desperate to be inside you.’ As though the point needs proving, I take her hand in mine and press the flat of her palm against my cock. ‘This is what you’ve done to me.’ What just thinking of you does to me. ‘And it’s all for you.’
Her shoulders tense, and she snaps the card out of my hand. With one determined swipe, the light changes, and we’re inside.
‘Do you want another drink?’ she purrs, turning around and taking two steps backwards. And two more again as she notices me following. Stalking. Making my way to her with clear intent.
‘I thought I made myself clear. What I want is you.’
‘But I thought we’d already met the terms of this thing. Sealed the deal. Consummated our union.’
‘Fucked, you mean?’ She comes to a stop as she collides with the back of the sofa, my eyes boring down on hers. ‘Are you saying you don’t want me?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she almost purrs.
‘Name your price, darling.’ Her soft expression hardens, and I realise what I’ve just said. In truth, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer her material things to get between her legs. But that isn’t Olivia. ‘Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Suck on your clit until it’s swollen and shiny? Until your legs are shaking so hard, you can’t stand?’ She shakes her head slowly. ‘I thought you didn’t like telling lies.’ I slide off my jacket, dropping it to the floor before beginning to unfasten my cuff links.One, two.They both hit the floor. ‘Fuck the terms. You want this as much as I do. Tell me the truth. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you.’
I watch as her gaze falls to my biceps, traveling over my chest as I begin to loosen the buttons on my shirt. She seems to come back to herself with a jolt.
‘You have a very high opinion of yourself. What I really want right now is a drink.’ Squeezing from between me and the sofa, she makes her way over to the bar. So, of course, I follow her.
Her fingers grasp a bottle of brandy, and she pours a couple of fingers into a tumbler. I find myself smiling, especially when I notice the tremor in her hand. She throws the dark liquid back, grimacing as she clasps the glass to her chest.
