Page 249 of The Last Good Man

“I can talk to him, you know,” he says, reluctantly stepping away from the lobby.

“I know. Ijust don’t think it’s necessary,” I say, pressing the elevator button and sighing with relief when the doors ding open.

47

MELODY

By the timewe walk into the hotel room, Ellis Wilton is nothing but a dreary memory.

I’ve given Jax the scoop on him on our way up.

Rich, privileged, and entitled. Brought up by some assholes, who are worse thanhim, if that’s even possible.

The entire family makes the headlines, and pictures of Ellis and his latest squeeze appear in the tabloids.

In my defense, I knew little about him when someone introduced him to me.

I didn’t pay much attention to my dates’ personal history, in general. Not in the beginning, anyway.

I didn’t think it was necessary.

Well, he changed that for me.

Buttruly, I don’t want to think about him.

I want to enjoy this evening as much as I can.

“How was your trip?” I ask, dropping my purse on the coffee table when two arms loop around me, coming from behind.

Soft chuckles roll off my chest.

“That bad?” I murmur.

He smells divine. Deep, dark, musky tones with a hint of smoke.

Of all the men I know, he rocks black attire like it’s nobody’s business.

We both were black tonight, but this is Manhattan, so we barely stand out.

Kissing my neck, he removes my jacket and, in one swoop, he runs my zipper down and tugs at my dress.

It falls and crumples on the floor before a smack on my butt cheek makes my skin prickle.

I turn around to lodge a complaint but have no time as he undoes my bra and removes my underwear.

My lips quiver with hunger and pleasure when he drapes his arms around me. Still fully clothed.

Our lips are on a collision course, and so are our emotions.

The days he was gone felt like punishment.

“I missed you,” I say.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs.

My hands go down his hard chest.

“My turn…” I say, looking at him with lust and love.

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