Page 137 of Fighting the Forbidden

Griff

Molly perked up on the way to the hotel but she’s still tipsy. In the lobby, she stumbles over the hotel’s slick marble floors. I bend down and scoop her into my arms.

“Weee!” She grins at me. “The party’s that way!” She points at a window overlooking the parking lot.

“Sure, Muffin.” I kiss her cheek. “Why don’t we explore the room for a minute, then we can check out the after-party.”

“Mmm.” She drags her fingers over the back of my neck. “I want to explore some things in the hotel room.”

I jab the elevator’s up button. “Not like this, Muffin.”

She pouts and frowns at the same time. “Why?”

“Because you’re drunk.” I kiss her forehead to take the sting out of my words.

“I’m not drunk.” The outrage in her voice pulls a chuckle from me.

Outside our room, I gently set her on her feet and keep one arm around her waist while I press the key card to the door. Voices and pounding footsteps come from our right. Stupid, slow key card. Please work.

The light finally flashes green and the lock clicks. I push the door open and urge Molly inside.

I’d left a change of clothes and a few surprises for Molly here earlier in the day when I checked in. Everything looks untouched. I slide her backpack off my shoulder and set it on a chair next to the bed.

“Oooh!” Molly squeals. “Look, roses!” She hurries to the vase on the long, black dresser across from the bed and sticks her nose in the blooms.

“You like them?” I ask.

“Are they from you?”

“Who else?”

“Wow. You were busy today.”

I step closer to her. “I wanted you to have a good night.”

She straightens and pulls her long, curled hair over one shoulder. “It’s been wonderful.”

“Good.”

She tries to turn around, tips to the side, and slaps her hand against the dresser to brace herself.

“Why don’t we take your shoes off?” I suggest.

“Will you help me take off my dress?” She gathers her hair again and points to the tiny zipper down the middle of her back.

Have mercy on me. I rest my hands on her shoulders and tease the bows tying the straps together. “Can I untie these first?”

She glances at me over her shoulder. “Sure.”

“Wanted to unwrap you like a present all night long.” I tug and the left bow unravels. She shifts her hair to the other side and I untie the second bow. I lean down and brush a kiss over her shoulder to her neck.

She lets out a shivery sigh and sags against me.

“Now, how am I supposed to work this zipper loose?” I kiss her neck again. “Hmm?”

“Oh.” She leans forward, resting her hands on the dresser. “Better?”

God, yes.

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