Page 112 of Look, Don't Touch

His gaze bloats, then turns to intense slits as though he knows exactly what I’m saying. The elevator rises again. “Use precise words and clear communication, Doctor.”

“You said that you’re mine.”

“I am yours, Hailey.” He says it so easily, as though it doesn’t mean the world to me.

I squeeze his hand. “I am yours, Arlo.”

His hand wraps around my throat, and he pulls me close. “Say it again.”

“Hey man, there are other people on the elevator,” a guy in a suit, holding a briefcase, whines.

My stomach jerks, scared of how Arlo will react.

The corners of his delicious mouth tilt up. His gaze stays locked on me. “I only see you. I only feel you.”

The guy grumbles, but we ignore him. It’s not hard when I’m staring at the most captivating man on earth. His fingers tighten on my neck, sending a rush of moisture between my legs.

“Say it again.” His voice rumbles in my ear.

“I. Am. Yours.” I nibble his earlobe into my mouth and nip it with my teeth. “When we get to my apartment, I want you to fuck me face-to-face. I want you to shove your big beautiful cock into my needy cunt, and I want you to pound me so hard, you tattoo your initials into my uterus.”

The elevator stops once more, and the last of the hotel guests filter off, leaving us blissfully alone.

Arlo hoists me into his arms and slams my back against the wall. “My fucking pleasure.”

“Literally.” I giggle.

“Yours too.” His devious fingers toy with the seam of my ass through my pants.

I buck against his touch. “Absolutely.”

His hand is back on my throat, hot and firm. He pulls me to him, and his mouth crashes to mine. His slick tongue invades, ready to pillage and plunder. My fingers delve into his hair, holding him impossibly close.

When the elevators stops, I don’t know whose floor it is, but Arlo seems a little more aware. He rushes us off and to my door. I roll my hips up his length, and then down. My head dances with desire, spinning wildly out of control. I’ve had to be so good for so long, not tempting him too much because I wasn’t ready. But I am now.

“Fuck, where are your keys?” The words are garbled against my lips.

I shrug and buck against his cock, not giving a shit who might see. In fact, I hope my farthest neighbor on the floor does. She’s been eye-fucking him for a week but crossed the line the day before he left. The bitch giggled and slapped a hand onto his arm.

I’d never experienced real jealousy before. It turns my inside to pure hate, and I envisioned stealing Arlo’s knife from his pocket and stabbing her…in the hand only. Still, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

He’d handled her with much less violence. Though the look he’d given her and her reaction to it worked like a slap across her cheek.

“Hailey, please.”

My smile is huge and a little devilish. I love when he begs. Of course, I love when he makes me beg too.

He pries me from him and ignores my grasping fingers. He’s so strong, he turns me to face the door and urges me forward. “Open the door, now.”

I quake at the command in his shredded voice. My hands shake like they did the first time I opened my apartment door for him. Like the first time his hand came up and steadied mine.

As soon as the door opens, Plinko’s meows assault us. They’re louder than usual, and when he blows past me to get to Arlo, I realize he’s missed his new friend.

“Hey, Plink.” Arlo scoops him up and nuzzles him close. He pulls a toy from his pocket and shakes it in front of my cat’s dark nose. He’s reluctant to leave the cleft of Arlo’s chin. Who can blame him? By the time I’ve closed and locked the door, his paws swat at the small feathered mouse. “I’ll play with you later, Buddy. I promise.”

He tosses the jingly toy toward the living room and sets Plink onto the floor. My cat takes off after the mock mouse as though it’s his job to secure his own dinner.

“You’re a softy.” I can’t help but smile at Arlo, the big brute with a heart of fucking gold.

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