We make our way to the reception desk and Clayton makes quick work of checking in and getting us room keys. Tucking the little card holder into his pocket, he motions to the hotel bar at the far end of the lobby, where I can hear voices and music trickling out.
“Hungry?” he asks. “They’re still serving food, looks like. Pizza and burgers, at least.”
My left eye twitches. Greasy pizza to top off the booze warming my belly and the lust heating up a lot of my other parts? Sounds good, but…
“I’m a little pressed for time,” I tell him.
His eyebrows shoot up. He tries to hold back a laugh and fails. “Is that so? Do you have another date lined up? Or a curfew?”
Oh, if only he knew. And normally, no—a curfew would require a parent who actually gives a shit what time I come home. But if I don’t show up sometime tonight after the hideous conversation my father and I had earlier, there’s no telling what he’ll do. He might assume I ran off, and that kind of thinking makes my sisters vulnerable. Especially if he’s drunk.
“No, just…some stuff to take care of at home,” I say vaguely.
“Well. What kind of gentleman would I be if I held you up?” Clayton says.
We take the elevator up and step out into a hallway. At the end of it, he takes out the room key and opens the door, flicking on a light as we enter.
It’s a pretty room, done in cream and earthy pops of rust and ochre and olive, with leather and wood furniture and exposed ceiling beams. I take my time looking around as I slip out of my jacket. It’s a move to slow down my pulse, but it doesn’t work. The huge bed in the center of the room sort of makes it impossible to calm down. I came here for one thing, and I’m about to get it. From a super-hot guy who is—
Standing behind me with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning.
God, he’s even hotter when his forehead is crinkled.
I pause midway in taking my jacket off. “Is something wrong?”
“Keep your jacket on.”
“Um, okay.” I slip it back on.
Clayton relaxes his stance and saunters over to me. His jaw is tense, and he works it to the side and pulls a breath in through his nose. There’s a darkness to his eyes that wasn’t there before, a heat in his expression. My inexperienced brain doesn’t pick up on it right away, but when he stands before me, it hits me. He’s aroused. Like, really aroused, and trying to keep himself in check. Is that why he looks almost predatory?
A hard shiver goes through me from head to toe.
“Turn around.”
Clayton gently cups my shoulders and turns me. A flicker of fear darts in my middle. Not that I’m scared, I’m just excited and nervous and…hell, who am I kidding? I’m giving my body over to this beast of a man who hints at danger. Of course, I’m a little afraid.
His hands slide down my arms, raising goosebumps through the fabric of my jacket, and then back up to my neck. He sweeps my hair to the side with one hand, dragging his fingers across my sensitive nape. Ooh, that sensation is completely new and unexpected. My body tenses—I don’t know why, because it feels amazing—so I remind myself to relax. And then he strips my jacket off and reaches for the hem of my shirt. His fingertips graze my sides as he works the shirt up. I pull it off the rest of the way and shiver as the air hits my exposed skin.
Clayton makes a throaty sound as he steps behind me, his shirt brushing against my back, and smooths his hands over my hips, to the front of my jeans. My breath catches in my throat as he unzips me and works my pants down. I need them off now, because my panties are suddenly soaked. I want all the fabric between us gone.
A gasp escapes me as his nails lightly scratch the outsides of my thighs, and then he finishes pushing the jeans all the way to my ankles. Maddeningly, they stay there because I still have my boots on. We both notice it at the same time; I can feel him smile as he kisses the side of my neck. He spins me around and picks me up by the waist, gently setting me on the bed.
Our eyes catch as he presses his palm to my chest to get me to lie back, and then he grabs my leg to unlace one boot, tugging it off afterward, then repeats the move to take off the other. He traps his lower lip between his teeth and roves my body with that dark gaze. All of me is on fire with wanting him. Holy shit, I’ve never felt anything like this. So hyperaware of my body. So hungry. So alive.
I reach for him and he drops onto the mattress and climbs over me, taking my mouth in a crushing kiss that gives me an immediate high. All rational thought flees my mind as his tongue commands mine and his kiss consumes everything, my nipples hardening painfully. Even though I’m in nothing but a bra and panties, my skin is warm, soaking up his body heat radiating into me. When I’m so dizzy from his kiss that I have to pull back for air, Clayton straightens up to strip off his shirt. Sweet mother.
I’ve seen plenty of shirtless guys on television and whatnot, but this is…better. So much better. His taut, smooth skin is molded to a perfect frame of muscle. Lithe, fit, firm in the torso but not bulky. No veins bulging off the rises and dips to gross me out, just pure male perfection. In the flesh. All for me.
Curious, I trail a hand across the curved muscles of his pecs, then slide my palm down the center of his chest to his tight abs. He feels…so good. I’ve fooled around with other guys my age before, sure, but I didn’t realize it was possible to be so awed by a male body. It’s like a revelation. My fingers dip lower, much lower, following the light trail of hair down to the waistband of his jeans. A thick bulge under the zipper stops me. It’s the bulge that counts, and I’m definitely intrigued by what’s waiting for me. I slide my hand over his fly, cupping the hardness of his dick through his jeans. Clayton groans and grabs my wrist.
“Easy, now,” he warns.
“What?”
He grins. “We don’t want the party over too soon, do we? Let’s take our time.”
I don’t respond, just lick my lips and wait for him to make the next move. Does he know that this is my first time? Can he tell? Maybe I should say something, but—
