More than Fashion

6

I nodded, pressing a hand to my temple. “Head rush.”

He steadied me, and I shook it off. I reached for his black leather belt, but my fingers were clumsy as I undid the buckle and I giggled. It took me way longer than it should, but finally I got it off him and dropped it on the floor.

But he didn’t get on the bed, didn’t start taking off his clothes, and didn’t kiss me again. He studied me, his brow furrowed. Even his eyebrows were sexy. That was crazy, but they were. I’d never noticed a guy’s eyebrows before, but his were dark and framed his gray eyes perfectly. I wanted to run a finger over each of them. I wondered if he plucked them and giggled at the image.

“You’re swaying,” he said.

I giggled harder. His accent was funny. “What?”

“Lie down.”

“Mmm, yes, sir.”

I liked a man who took charge in bed. I loved taking charge myself, too, but if that’s what he was into, I could go for that tonight. I laid back, trying to look hot, giving him my best s*x-kitten stare. He grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-bar and handed it to me. “Drink this.”

Not a bad idea. I took the water and tried to drink it in a sexy way, licking my lips, but managed to spill it over my chest, water dripping down the front of my dress. Well, if he wanted me wet…

“You want some?” I asked in a seductive voice.

“Thank you, no.”

I shrugged and left the water on the side table. He still didn’t move, just stared at me from beside the bed. I crooked a finger at him with a smile. “Get over here.”

“Trust me, love, I want to.”

“Love?” I wasn’t a fan of silly nicknames, but the way he said it sounded like “luv” and that was pretty hot. God, that accent. I wanted to listen to him whisper all sorts of dirty things in my ear. Preferably while doing them to me. Why wasn’t that happening already?

“Give me your name and I’ll call you something else,” he said.

“No, I like that.” I raised an arm over my head, draping it across the pillow, trying to look sexy. “Come to bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I sat up, dropping my arm. “Why not?”

“You’re pissed.”

“No, I’m not,” I said, confused. “I mean, I’m a little annoyed that you’re not already naked…”

“Not that kind of pissed.” He gestured like he was trying to find the word. “Drunk.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not that either.”

“No, love, you really are.”

“I don’t care. I want this. I want you. Right. Now.” I slid down the bed to him, running my hand across the front of his pants. Judging by the hard—and very large—bulge there, he definitely wanted me, too.

He took my hand off him. “That’s not a good idea.”

I didn’t understand what the problem was. He was in my room, he’d gone down on me, and he was obviously interested in more. Why stop now? “Why are you here if you don’t want this?”

“I didn’t realize how drunk you are until now.” He nodded at the water. “Drink that and get some sleep.”

He turned away, like he was about to leave. Oh, hell no. Guys did not walk out on me. I walked out on them.

“Stop being a gentleman. I don’t want sleep. I want to get laid. And if you won’t help me out…” I stood up, flipped my long hair, and gave a little shrug. It took all my energy not to topple over again. “Well, maybe some other guy at the bar will.”

He turned back to me, crossing his arms. “Don’t be a t**t. You can barely stand on your own.”

“A what?”

“And you’re definitely not going back down there to find some other guy.”

“What, now you think you have some claim over me?” I huffed. “Just ‘cause you called yourself my boyfriend doesn’t make it true.”

He closed his eyes, taking a long breath. “No, of course not.”

“Then get out of my way.”

“You’re far too drunk. I’m not letting you leave the room like this. Even if I have to stay here all night.”

Rage swept through me, fixed on this arrogant, obnoxious, annoyingly handsome guy. “You…” I pressed my hand against his chest, a feeble attempt to get him to move, but couldn’t help but enjoy the feel of his body underneath my palm. Instead of pushing him away, I pulled him closer. “You can’t keep me here. Or tell me what to do. This is my room.”

“No, I suppose I can’t.”

With a soft groan, his mouth covered mine in a hungry, fierce kiss, showing me how much he wanted this, too. I finished unbuttoning his shirt, the job I’d abandoned earlier in the elevator, while his hands circled my waist. He nudged me backward, toward the bed. Yes! Now we were getting somewhere.

But when the back of my knees bumped against the bed, he stopped and removed his hands. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t. It’s not right.”

I groaned. “Forget right and take off your clothes already.”

“Love, believe me when I say that all I want to do is pin you against this bed and bury myself in you until you scream my name. But I’m not going to take advantage of you while you’re drunk.”

“It’s not taking advantage if I’m asking you to do it. And really, I’m not that drunk. Watch.” I walked in a straight line up and down the room, not even wavering once. “See?”

He ignored my plea and began buttoning his shirt again. I hadn’t even gotten a good look at his chest, and now it was gone. Dammit.