Page 36 of Rough Patch

Oh, God. She’d be lucky to make it that long. He guided her through the rotating door. A crystal chandelier hung overhead in the foyer and the carpet was a deep burgundy that matched the shade of wallpaper crossed with gold. This was opulent. Expensive. A gorgeous place. And she didn’t give a damn about any of it. She wanted to find the nearest bathroom, drag her husband in behind her, and fuck him until the walls shook and the big fancy chandelier danced on its chain.

But she waited, standing beside him as he gave the maitre d’ his name and another man came to lead them to their round booth. He slid in next to her. This was secluded. Had she not passed them on the way to theirs, she wouldn’t have known there was another table in the entire place.

When the man walked away, Grier smiled and leaned in to kiss her. His tongue played at the seam of her lips, and he drew her hand beneath the table, used his to guide it up her thigh, so near her pussy, but he pulled them both back. “Not yet.”

She groaned, soft but from low in her belly. She needed Grier. Now. She pushed his hand away. “You’re such a tease.”

He tossed his napkin on the table. “I’ll crawl under this table right now and make you scream loud enough we both get thrown out of here and probably arrested.” Worth it in her book, but he continued before she could tell him. “Or… we can make this night last until we get upstairs and you can see what I have planned for you.”

“But you said I could finish once we got inside.”

“And you will. Just… not. Yet.”

She grinned at the promise behind his words. “Fine.”

* * *

Grier was one sultry look from an explosion in his pants. He hadn’t been kidding about crawling under the table. If she’d asked, he would’ve, and now as his punishment for not, he had to watch her practically making love with her mouth to a spoon full of chocolate mousse. What this woman could do with eating utensils should’ve been illegal.

He signaled for the check and paid then on legs made of jelly, helped Fiona from the booth. “You are killing me, woman.” She had an extra sway to her hips, and if that dress dipped any lower…

With the room key burning a hole in his pocket, they walked to the elevator, not touching, but the electricity sparking between them reminded him of how he’d felt the first time with her. How badly he’d wanted her, needed to touch her. So much so, he had almost embarrassed himself. But not tonight.

Tonight, he had plans for her.

In the elevator, too crowded for much more than a few illicit brushes of her hand against his zipper, he tried to hold his shit together and not give the rest of the folks sharing the lift a porn show. But when she reached low to full-on rub his cock, he groaned and the woman in front of him turned to glare.

Fiona smiled. “The steak didn’t agree with him.”

The woman jerked around and inched forward away from them. How the hell was this damned thing so crowded on a Tuesday night in December?

Fiona continued to toy with him—a debt he’d be more than happy to repay once they were alone—as the car stopped on various floors letting passengers out until they were alone. He pressed her against the mirrored wall, used his knee to spread her legs, then fit himself between.

She moaned as he ground his hips once into hers. “I should bend you over my knee right here for teasing me like that.” He growled the words against her ear and was rewarded with a whimper. He squeezed her ass then gave it a little tap. This time she squealed and melded her mouth to his. His cock strained against his jeans and thank God, the doors whooshed open. Their stop.

She slipped off the shoes, shoes she would be putting back on, and jogged beside him down the hall. He’d been one second from lowering that exposed zipper running from her shoulder blade to her ass. At the door to their room, he pulled the tab with one hand and slipped the keycard into the slot with the other. She walked inside and let the dress fall off to pool around her feet. And Grier’s tongue rolled up. He’d be lucky not to swallow the damned thing.

Her lingerie, black and barely there, was a one-piece with a thin line of lace that ran along her stomach with a thinner sliver tucked between her ass cheeks. He wanted to rip the damned thing off. With his teeth.

He pushed her back onto the bed and laid next to her, tracing a finger along the fabric that curved over the swell of her breasts. She had new curves, mouth-watering curves, and he wanted to take his time and explore every single one, but her hands clawed at his shirt and her mouth attacked his throat.

It seemed he spent all of their bedroom time telling himself to slow it down, but if he didn’t, their night would be over before it started. And this was one place he didn’t plan to disappoint his Fiona. He rolled away and stood. “Come here.”

She knee-walked across the bed, and if he could’ve listened, he was sure he would have heard his dick begging.

“Undress me.” And it would take an act of God not to come in his jeans, but she liked when he told her what to do and tonight was for her. And, okay, for him.

Instead of taking each button and slipping it through its slot, she grabbed the two sides and yanked. The tap of tiny plastic buttons against the furniture was just another of those sounds working against him. Along with her moans and whimpers, the swish of her knees against the blanket, the vibration in his own throat.

She looked up and ran her tongue over the end of her finger while she batted her eyes at him. “Oops. I ruined your shirt.”

“It’s okay.”

She clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head. “I probably deserve a spanking.”

When she turned to lay her head against the mattress, leaving her ass in the air, Grier shook his head. “You are a naughty girl.”

“And you should spank me.”