Page 7 of Tempting Him

He makes a noise I can’t quite decipher—something between a huff and snort. It’s probably as close as he gets to a laugh. “I definitely don’t have a family. I don’t have time for it.”

“So, you live here?”

“For the time being,” he states as we enter the elevator.

“When I was a kid, I always wanted to live in a hotel. It was so much fun to wander the halls late at night, and I would always offer to go to the vending and ice machines.” I laugh. “I don’t know why I thought it was so much fun.”

He stares straight ahead. “It’s just a place to sleep at night.”

This guy has a hard shell, and he’s difficult to crack, but I keep talking, hoping to get him to open up a little bit.

When we enter his hotel room, I let out a low whistle. “A little more than a place to sleep at night. This is like a penthouse. You’re living my fucking dream.”

As he drapes his jacket over the back of a chair, I run straight for the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city.

“It’s probably more than I need, but—”

“But you want the best,” I say, angling my head over my shoulder and winking at him.

The hotel room, if you can even call it that, is massive. The living room consists of a giant, creamy white sectional with a glass top coffee table in the center, all of it resting on an oversized white and blue rug that covers the glossy tile floor.

There’s a small bar, a dining room table, and a kitchen made for a chef. The decorations are modern and sleek, making it look both simple and elegant.

“Drink?” he offers, pouring a small amount of dark liquid into a crystal glass.

“I don’t really sip on straight alcohol, but I’ll take a shot.”

He doesn’t say anything, but pours more of the same liquor in another glass and extends his arm in my direction. “They don’t supply shot glasses, but here you go.”

I make a point to let my fingers touch his when I take the glass. “Thank you.” I drink it all down in one gulp and place it back on the bar before spinning back around to the windows. “Please tell me you have a balcony.”

“Bedroom.”

I point in one direction, and he points in the opposite, letting me know where to go. I peek inside and then snap my head back toward him. “My guy,” I say with a laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’d never leave. You sure you don’t want me for more than one night?”

For only the second time tonight, his lips twitch like he wants to smile. “Don’t make it sound like you’re a prostitute.”

He follows me through his room and onto the balcony. I let my hands run along the metal railing as I gaze down at the view below. “The things I’d do on this balcony.”

I sense him at my back before he even touches me. His presence is immense, and the power he radiates permeates my skin, spreading through every vein in an attempt to bring me to my knees. When his breath dances across the back of my neck, goosebumps break out across my arms.

“The things I’m going to do to you on this balcony,” he says in a husky whisper.

He barricades me between his arms, pressing himself into my back. My eyes close on their own accord, a soft moan rumbling in the back of my throat.

“I can’t wait.”

“Do you switch?” he asks, his hands resting on my hips.

“Mm. Yeah.”

“How long has it been?”

“A few months,” I reply, my breath quivering slightly as his hand travels across my abdomen before sliding over the front of my jeans.

With dexterous fingers, he easily unsnaps my button and drags the zipper down. “Clean?”

“Of course.” I moan when he squeezes my growing erection. “You?”

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