“Even if the museum is closed, there’s still plenty to do.” She chews her bottom lip and then smiles. “This has been lovely, though.”
She said no but hesitated. I can work with that. “Cat.” I brush her mouth with mine, tasting the remnants of olives on her lips. “Stay up past bedtime. Just this once.” I tuck her hair away from her neck and plant a soft kiss below her ear. “I’ll show you a good time.”
She shivers under my touch, her lips parting in a silent gasp. My cock twitches at the sight.
I trail my mouth lower, feeling her pulse thump along her throat. “Surely you don’t really have work in the morning.”
She pushes me back, desire dancing in her eyes. “Okay. I keep a suite at the Desmond for when I have business in the city.” It’s a couple blocks up. A nightcap?”
I grin and pull my wallet out to pay for our drinks. “Perfect.” Perfectly annoying. I’d hoped for easy access to the Ricci estate since I’ve got to report to my father in the morning.
No matter. I’ll just get in another way later.
As we trudge the few blocks to the Desmond, the snow rubs our ankles. Despite the frigid air, alcohol and the promise of what’s to come warm me. I wrap my arm around her waist, pressing her heat against my side.
The Desmond’s sleek lobby of gold and black shimmers. Chandeliers glitter over beige tile, and brown leather conversation sets furnish the common area. The scent of cinnamon from leftover Christmas decorations hangs heavy in the air. At the far end of the lobby, young receptionists dressed in black wait to check in guests, but Cat blows right past them.
She leads me straight to the elevators, up to the sixth floor, down a red-carpeted hallway, and finally through a heavy black door.
In the white-tiled foyer, Cat kicks off her shoes and flips on a couple of lights before walking deeper into her suite. She heads to the kitchen and stops to stand near an island with a white marble waterfall countertop. Behind her, glossy blue cabinets reflect her dark silhouette. She dips her hand into a stainless steel wine cooler, pulls out a bottle, and pours us both a glass.
I can smell the earth tones from here. That’s one hell of a red.
Leaving my shoes by the door, I walk over to the caramel-colored leather couch and sit.
Her suite is posh and polished, with calm and relaxing neutral tones. A set of thick velvet curtains hides what must be a view of the city, and soft gray carpet covers the living space and disappears beneath the bed.
The room reminds me more of LA than anything else in this crowded city. Smells nice too. Like cherries.
I’ll have to tell my sister how this place compares to her hotel in Santa Monica.
But the art is what makes this room really stand out. Loud, colorful, and abstract, it fills the otherwise bland space with vibrancy. The Desmond didn’t decorate her walls. Caterina Ricci did. Every wall bursts with artwork, and an especially large, energetic painting hangs above her four-poster bed. From here, the blood-red bedding looks silky, and stacks of books pile on both bamboo nightstands. I hope I’ll get a chance to investigate those. You can discover a lot about a person based on what they read in their free time.
Cat travels halfway across the room with our stemless glasses before she sets them on a side table. She holds my gaze as she unzips her skirt and drops it to the floor, revealing sensible black bikini underwear. Stepping out of the fabric, she closes the distance and slides onto my lap.
Caterina Ricci straddles me, and my hands are on her in an instant. “This is surprising.” I drag my gaze over her body while gripping her tighter. “Your ass is fantastic.”
Her cheeks flush as she firmly plants herself on my dick. “Thank you.” She unbuttons the jacket she’s still wearing. “This is yours.” As she shimmies, the fine wool falls in a lump on the floor, but I couldn’t care less.
Those big, beautiful breasts hover just in front of me, covered by nothing but a thin layer of bra.
I plant my tongue on the base of her neck, licking and sucking my way down into her cleavage. “I can still taste the latte.”
She grins and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Clean it all up, Mr. Ryder.”
Oh, how I want to.
I don’t just take orders from anyone, though, and I can’t let her think she’s in control.
In this moment, I’ve got bigger concerns.
Unhooking her pink lacy bra, I take a stiff nipple into my mouth, sucking as I let go of her ass—reluctantly—and give her breasts the attention they deserve. My fingers tease, pinch, and roll one nipple as my mouth worships the other.
Cat sighs while carding her fingers through my hair. “Dane…” She grinds down on my cock, rubbing against me with a soft moan.
Her sexy noises shoot straight from my ears to my groin.
If I don’t lose these clothes, I’m going to get road rash on my fucking dick.
