Fall Into You

8

He closes his eyes, grits his teeth, and draws a slow, aggravated breath.

Into his bristling silence, I say, “Cole. Please look at me. I want to say something, but I want you to be looking at me when I do.”

When he turns his gaze on me, the air ripples from the heat of it.

My pulse flutters. My mouth goes dry. I have to swallow before I can speak. “Will you please get us a room in this hotel? I would very much like to take this girthy beast under your zipper out for a ride.”

“Jesus f*****g Christ, woman,” he mutters, glaring at me in outrage.

“You’re the one who put my hand on your d**k. We’re way past the polite chitchat stage.”

He takes my hand off the bulge in his trousers and places it firmly onto my lap.

“Cole, will you—”

“Don’t f*****g ask again,” he cuts in, his voice dark.

“Will you please get us a room in this hotel?”

“This is a game to you. Is that it? See how far you can push me before I lose my s**t?”

He’s starting to look really angry. I have no idea why, but that gets me even more excited. Chet was never this exciting. He was too busy preening in front of a mirror.

“No. I’m not playing games. I’m dead serious. Here, I’ll prove it to you.”

I lean in to kiss him, but he blocks me by grasping my jaw in his hand and holding my face inches from his.

His eyes blaze. His nostrils flare. Every inch of him bristles. He wants to kiss me so badly, his hands shake. But he won’t let himself do it. He holds himself back with the kind of self-control that would be deeply impressive if it weren’t interfering with me getting what I want.

I’ve never seen a more thrilling specimen of masculinity in my life.

It’s probably all his red flags that are making me so hot. Maybe he’s right about the romance novels.

I say, “It’s not the drinks. It’s not the breakup. It’s not that the batteries in my vibrator died. It’s that you’re protective of me. You want to protect me, and you’re trying to deny yourself something you want because of it. I find that extremely sexy.”

When he only stares at me in that hot, angry, unblinking silence, I add, “I’d love to watch all this careful control of yours unravel.”

“You don’t even know my last name!”

“You don’t know mine either.”

“I could be abusive. I could be a psychopath!”

“We both know you’re not.”

“But I could be.”

“Just kiss me already. People are staring.”

“Let them f*****g stare.”

“Don’t make me beg. This is embarrassing.”

His eyes glitter dangerously. His laugh is low and hard. “You’re not embarrassed in the least.”

“I was earlier. Now I’m just horny.”

His eyes soften, as does his voice. “Shay, seriously. What the hell are you doing?”

“Making myself happy. Putting my own needs first.”

“This isn’t about your needs. It’s about your ego. That dipshit Chet bruised it, and you want to use me to patch it up.”

“He didn’t bruise my ego. He broke my heart. And you have five seconds, starting now, to decide before I get up and walk away. One night, Cole. That’s all it is. One night and we’ll never see each other again. Let’s do this.”

His look changes to one of genuine confusion. Somehow, his mercurial mood swings make him even more appealing.

“You’re the most baffling woman I’ve ever met.”

“You should see my t**s. Then you’ll really be impressed.”

A sound rumbles through his chest. It’s low and dangerous, like a wolf’s growl.

When his gaze drops to my lips, I know I’ve almost got him. I whisper, “I have very sensitive n*****s. I can’t wait to feel your tongue on them.”

There’s a moment—a long, breathless moment—where I can almost hear the thread of his self-control fraying. Then the last of his restraint snaps.

He leans in and covers my mouth with his.

Cole

S

he tastes like fine whiskey and bad dreams. The second our mouths fuse together, she moans. Low and soft, rising from deep in her throat, the sound fries the part of my brain that’s responsible for restraint and good decision making.

I hold her jaw in my hand and drink greedily from her luscious mouth like a man who’s been living without water for years.

She leans into me, flattening her hand over the center of my chest, arching closer to my body. Off in the distance, someone whistles a catcall and starts clapping. We both ignore it.

I slide my tongue against hers and wish we were already naked.

“Get us a room,” she breathes, her lips moving against mine.

I capture her lips again because I’m not done kissing her.

She’s delicious. Warm, soft, feminine, and completely f*****g delicious.

I want to devour every inch of her body. I want to leave handprints on her skin. I want to bite her and lick her and f**k her in every way between tender and brutally hard.

I want to let this woman with pretty eyes and a sad soul ruin me.

At least for tonight.

Turning her head, I growl into her ear, “I’m going to the front desk. I’ll meet you in ten minutes by the elevators. You shouldn’t be there, Shay.”

“I will be.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Tearing myself away from her, I rise from the booth and nod at Matt behind the bar to put the drinks on my house tab. Then I walk away, weaving through the tables as I head out toward the lobby and front desk.

It takes every ounce of what willpower I have left not to turn around to see if she’s watching me go.