Seventeen
I had experience with negotiations, holdouts, bargaining. Here I was in
the unfamiliar position of having laid all my chips on the table, but
when it came to Chloe, I didn’t care. I was all in.
“Are you looking forward to being home? You’ve been gone for
almost three weeks.”
She shrugged, pulling my boxers down without ceremony and
wrapping her warm hand around me with a familiarity that made me
ache in new places. “I’ve had a nice time here, you know.”
I deliberated over each button of her blouse, kissing every inch of
skin as it came into view. “How much time do we have to play before
our flight?”
“Thirteen hours,” she said, without looking at a clock. The answer
certainly came quickly, and from the way her skin felt when I slid two
fingers inside her underwear, I didn’t think she was looking forward to
leaving this hotel room anytime soon.
I tickled her thighs with my fingers, teased her tongue with mine,
and rubbed myself against her leg until I could feel her arching toward
me. Her legs slipped around my waist and she spread her hands
against my chest as I reached down and pushed myself inside her,
determined to make her come as many times as I could before the sun
came up.
For me, there was nothing in the world but her slick skin and the
soft air of her moans against my neck. Over and over I moved on her,
mute with my need, lost in her. Her hips rolled with mine and her back
shifted to press her breasts against me and I wanted to tell her, “This,
what we have, is the most amazing thing I have ever felt. Do you feel it
too?”
But I had no words. I had only instinct and desire and the taste of
her on my tongue and the memory of her laugh ringing in my ears. I
wanted to keep that sound playing over and over. I wanted to be
everything for her: her lover and sparring partner and friend. In this
bed, I could be everything.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she said in a weird moment—on the
verge of coming and holding onto me so tight I thought I might bruise.
But I knew what she meant because it was painful to be filled so full of
this longing and have no fucking idea how it would play out. I wanted
her in a way that made me feel like every second I was sated and
starving—and my brain didn’t know what to do with it. So instead of
answering her or telling her what I thought we could do, I kissed her
neck and put my fingers against the soft skin of her hip, and told her,
“I don’t either, but I’m not ready to let it go yet.”
“It feels so good . . .” She whispered this against my throat and I
groaned in quiet agony, patently unable to manage one articulate word
in response.
I feared I would howl.
I kissed her.
I pushed her deeper into the mattress.
It went on forever, this splintering ecstasy. Her body rising to meet
mine, her mouth wet and hungry, biting and sweet.
I woke up when my pillow was yanked out from under my head and
Chloe mumbled something incoherent about spinach and hot dogs.
The woman was a sleep-talking, restless bed hog.
I ran a greedy hand over her ass before rolling to look at the clock. It
was only a little after five in the morning, but I knew we had to get
moving soon to make our eight o’clock flight. As much as I hated to
leave our merry little den of sin, I hadn’t done any work here and was
starting to feel increasingly guilty about the career I’d essentially
neglected. For the past decade my career had been my life, and
although I was growing more comfortable with the obliterating effect
Chloe had on that balance, I had to retrieve my focus. It was time to
get home, put on the Boss Hat, and start taking names.
The early morning sun filtered in and washed her pale skin a gray-
blue light. She was curled on her side, facing me, her hair a dark
tangle across the pillow behind her. Most of her face was now cuddled
into my pillow.
I could understand her hesitance to decide how our relationship
would work back in reality. The San Diego bubble had been amazing, in
part because it lacked every aspect that made our relationship tricky to
begin with: her job at Ryan Media, my role in the family business, her
scholarship, our independently sharp attitudes. Although I wanted to
push to define this thing between us and set expectations so that I
could dive in headfirst, her approach—far more tentative—was
probably the right one.
We hadn’t bothered to pull the blankets back on the bed after we’d
worked them to the floor last night, and I took the chance to stare at
her nude body. I could definitely get used to waking up with this
woman in my bed.
But unfortunately, we didn’t have a leisurely morning ahead of us. I
tried to wake her with my hand on her shoulder, then a kiss on her
neck, and finally a hard pinch on her ass.
She reached out and smacked my arm hard before I’d even pulled it
back. I wasn’t even sure she was awake. “Asshole.”
“We should get up and get going. We need to be at the airport in a
little over an hour.”
Chloe rolled over and stared up at me, face lined with pillow creases
and her eyes unfocused. She didn’t bother to cover her body like she
had the first morning, but she wasn’t all smiles, either. “Okay,” she
said. She sat up, drank some water, and kissed my shoulder before
climbing out of bed.
I watched her naked body as she walked to the bathroom, but not
once did she look back at me. I didn’t exactly need a morning quickie,
but I wouldn’t have minded a little spooning, maybe some pillow talk.
Probably shouldn’t have pinched her ass, then.
She didn’t emerge, and after collecting my things, I knocked on the
bathroom door. “I’m heading next door to shower and pack.”
She was quiet for a few beats. “Okay.”
“Can I get something other than ‘okay’?”
Her laugh trailed from the other side of the door. “I believe I said
‘asshole’ earlier.”
I grinned.
But when I reached for the door to leave, she opened the bathroom
door and stepped directly into my arms, wrapping herself around me
and pressing her face to my neck. She was still naked, and when she
glanced up, her eyes seemed a little red.
“Sorry,” she said, kissing my jaw before pulling me down for a
longer, deeper kiss. “I just get nervous before flying.”
She turned and walked back into the bathroom before I could meet
her eyes and figure out if she was telling me the truth.
The room next door felt eerily spotless, even for a high-end hotel chain.
It took no time to pack, no time to shower and dress. But something
kept me from going back over to Chloe’s room so soon. It was as if
she needed some time alone in there, to deal with whatever silent
battle she was waging with herself. I could tell she was conflicted, but
which way would she come down in the end? Would she decide she
wanted to try? Or would she decide it wasn’t possible to balance work
and us?
When impatience won out over chivalry, I pulled my bag into the
hallway and knocked on her door.
She opened it, dressed like a naughty businesswoman pinup, and it
took me approximately eight years to move my attention from her legs,
up over her breasts, and finally to her face.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
She gave me a shaky smile. “Hey.”
“Ready to go?” I asked, starting to walk past her to get her bag. The
sleeve of my jacket brushed against her bare arm, and before I fully
understood what was happening, she had my tie twisted around her
fist and my back pressed against the wall, her mouth sliding over
mine.
I froze, surprised. “Whoa, hello there,” I mumbled against her lips.
With one hand splayed on my chest, she began loosening my tie
and groaned into my mouth when she felt my dick grow hard against
her. Her nimble fingers had my tie yanked from my collar and on the
floor at my feet before I remembered we had a flight to catch.
“Chloe,” I said, struggling to pull back from her kisses. “Baby, we
don’t have time for this.”
“I don’t care.” She was nothing but teeth and lips, suction all down
my neck, her hungry hands whipping my belt off, palming my cock.
I cursed under my breath, completely unable to resist the way she
gripped me through my pants, her bossy wiggling and tugging on my
clothes. “Fuck, Chloe, you’re fucking wild.”
I whipped her around, pressing her back into the wall and shoving
my hand up beneath her blouse, roughly pushing the cup of her bra
aside. Her greediness was infectious, and my fingers relished the
pebbling of her nipples, the firm swell of her breast as she pushed
forward into my palm. I reached down and slid her skirt over her hips,
shoved her underwear down, and she kicked it aside before I lifted her
off the floor.
I needed to be in her, now.
“Tell me you want me,” she said, the words coming out as exhales,
only air. She was trembling; her eyes were squeezed closed.
“You have no idea. I want everything you’ll give me.”
“Tell me we can do this.” She shoved my pants and boxers down
past my knees and wrapped her legs around my waist, digging the heel
of her shoe into my ass. When my dick slipped against her, pushing
just inside, I covered her mouth as she let out a small, keening noise.
Almost a moan.
Almost a sob.
I pulled back, inspecting her face. Tears ran down her cheeks.
“Chloe?”
“Don’t stop,” she said, hiccupping, leaning to suck at my neck.
Hiding. With one hand, she tried to dig between us and reach for me. It
was a weird kind of desperation. We knew frenzied fucking, and we
knew covert quickies, but this was something else entirely.
“Stop.” I pressed closer, pinning her tightly to the wall. “Baby, what
are you doing?”
Finally, she opened her eyes, focusing on my collar. She slipped a
button loose, and then one more. “I just need to feel you one more
time.”
“What are you talking about, ‘one more time’?”
She wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t say anything.
“Chloe, when we leave this room, we can leave everything here. Or
we can take everything we have with us. I believe we can figure it
out . . . but do you?”
She nodded, her lip pinned between her teeth so tightly the pink
flesh was white. When she released it, it flushed a decadent, tempting
red. “I want to.”
“I told you, I want more than this. I want to be with you. I want to be
your lover.” I swore, digging my hands into my hair. “I’m falling for you,
Chloe.”
She bent over, laughing, relief spreading through her body. When
she stood, she pulled me close again, pressing her lips to my cheek.
“You’re serious?”
“Totally serious. I want to be the only guy who fucks you against
windows, and also the first person you see in the morning—from
where you lie, having stolen my pillow. I’d also like to be the person
who gets you lime Popsicles when you’ve had bad sushi. We only have
a few months left where it’s potentially complicated.”
With my mouth on hers, and my hands on her face, I think she
finally started to understand. “Promise me you’ll take me to bed when
we get back,” she said.
“I promise.”
“Your bed.”
“Fuck yes, my bed. My bed is huge, with a headboard I can tie you
to and spank you silly for being so ridiculous.”
And in that moment, we were completely perfect.
In the hall, after one final kiss to her palm, I dropped her hand and
led her down to the lobby.
