Page 11 of Code Red Chemistry

I dart my tongue out to wet my lips and arch against him. “I know you want me.”

“What I want is to take you on a proper date.”

Grr, this man is so infuriating. Why has he decided now is the time to insist this is something more than it is? He had that chance. And blew it.

With no other options coming to mind, I do the only thing I can think of to break his newfound restraint. The one way to ensure my plan doesn’t crumble before I can even get to step two. I tug down his head and kiss him.

For a heartbeat, he’s still. A statue of carved marble. And in that suspended second between impulse and reaction, I wonder if I’ve misread him completely. Levi’s entire being radiates tension, like a match about to strike. Until his thick fingers slide up into my hair, and he steals control.

His tongue traces the seam of my lips, and I open for him with a gasp. He tastes like mint and possibility as he thoroughly and methodically kisses me, dismantling every defense I’ve built. But also giving me exactly what I want. My nerves shoot off like a cardiac defibrillator, jolting my pulse into an erratic rhythm that feels dangerous and exhilarating.

With effort, he tears away, his forehead pressed against mine. Our ragged breaths mingle in the inches between our lips. “Fuck, darling, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Good thing I’m a doctor.”

A growl rumbles from his chest, raw and untamed as his hands grip my waist. He crushes me against the wall in the bestpossible way and kisses me soundly. A small mewl escapes my throat, and he captures it in his mouth before exploring with his tongue with the kind of patience that makes my toes curl in my stilettos. When his teeth graze my bottom lip, my fingers twist his jacket, and he groans, the vibration shooting straight to my core.

Just when I think my knees will give out, he pulls back, pressing one more swift kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“This isn’t getting you out of that date,” he warns as he grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine, and spins toward the exit.

Levi

This isn’t like lasttime. This isn’t like last time. This isnotlike last time.

I repeat the mantra in my head as Zoe’s heels click down the hallway next to me, her warm hand gripping mine tight. We’re headed back toward the ballroom, past which, thanks to an inspection I helped with here last year, I happened to know there’s a coat closet. One that’s surely as empty as a ghost town in the warm spring weather the city is enjoying this weekend.

In my wildest dreams, I never even imagined that tonight would pan out like this. That Zoe would bid on me. And win. That she’d leave the gala, knowing I’d follow her. That she’d propose we find somewheremore private. Hell, she turned me down flat only days ago and now…

Now, I’m proving her right. Stealing her away to another coat closet with every intention of a repeat. But I couldn’t resist. I mean, hell. She stepped right up, tugged my head down, and kissed me. Zoe Meyer, the woman I haven’t been able to get outof my mind for five years, pressed her sexy lips to mine. And with that? I was a goner. Exactly as she knew I’d be.

The honey-blonde physician, who frequents my dreams, sauntered in as if she owns them—which, to be honest, isn’t far from the truth—and came on to me. And despite my best efforts to forget the way I felt that night at the wedding, the way she made me feel, I’ve failed to resist her. Utterly and completely. And now? Now, my only option is to give her what she wants but then work my ass off to show her how this is nothing like last time. That everything, and I meaneverything, is different now.

Ashley Adam’s voice, announcing another winning bid followed by a raucous round of applause, echoes from the grand ballroom, but I press on, past the series of double doors flung wide open. Spotting my target, I pull up to an unmarked door just beyond and glance back down the hallway. No staff are in sight, and the auction guests on their way to or from the restroom are too preoccupied to pay us any mind.

A sleek chrome keypad gleams beside the handle. I key in the four-digit universal fire service code, ignoring the twinge of guilt that works down my spine at using the knowledge for personal gain, as the lock clicks. I push the heavy, fire-rated composite door open. In compliance with building code, it’s extra thick—like my wool slacks in the crotch at the moment. The air inside carries the signature Plaza gardenia scent. Just like the rest of the public spaces in the hotel.

“Convenient,” Zoe murmurs, pressing against me as I feel for a light switch on the wall but come up empty-handed.

My eyes adjust to the pitch black of the coatroom, full of empty rolling racks holding hundreds of hangers as Zoe slips in behind me and the door clicks shut.

“Maybe, but I can’t lock this door from the inside,” I warn her.

“So we could be interrupted at any minute?”

The catch in her voice tells me she doesn’t mind the idea. In fact, quite the opposite.

“You wouldn’t mind being caught?” I trail a finger down her cheek. My question isn’t so much a question as a statement, a confirmation of the way the hint of danger turns her on. Just like the last time.

Fuck me. I didn’t realize it then, but the risk of discovery adds to her pleasure. I spin to meet her gaze, her red dress matching the glow from the status indicator on the smoke detector that serves as the only illumination in the room. “Too bad this door is thick enough to muffle any cries of pleasure.”

Her eyes flash. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Reyes?”

And with that, all bets are off. I lean forward and catch her lips against mine, slipping my hand from hers to dig my fingers into her hair, pinning her body back against the door. My cock twitches against her abdomen as she matches the move, fisting my hair roughly.

I swallow the moan that escapes her chest as I tilt my head for deeper access. My tongue slides between her lips and past her teeth to twirl with hers. But it’s not long before she’s turned the tables, her tongue exploring into my mouth, teeth nipping at my bottom lip.

Without wasting another minute, I break away from her lips with a gasp and lick my way over to her earlobe and down to her collarbone, leaving a trail of moisture in my wake. I tug the formfitting red dress, with a slit that should be illegal, up her thighs and groan against her pulse point as my fingers brush the goosebumps that rise on her smooth skin. Her hands push my jacket off my shoulders, and I slip out of it one arm at a time until it falls to the floor.

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