Page 39 of Free to Run
My head drops forward to trail kisses over her neck, exposed by the V-neck of her nightshirt. I can smell the natural scent of her skin, and I can’t help but trail my tongue against the edge where the satin of her pajama shirt meets her silky skin.
She whispers, “Keene.” Her voice is throaty, sending another bolt of urgency to my already needy cock.
This has to end soon, or we’re never getting out of this hotel room.
I trail my lips back up to hers. Alison sinks her hands into my hair, pulling and tugging on the ends as our mouths fuse together.
I’m drowning. I’m lost. I have no way of saving us.
Fortunately, someone else does.
Knock. Knock. Knock.“Housekeeping!”
When we pull apart, Alison’s eyes have gone comically wide. She’s pushing at my chest, saying, “Did you set the chain last night when you followed me in?”
“I honestly can’t remember,” I tell her.
“Shit!” She stands on the bed, shaking out her nightshirt so it covers her luscious ass. I’m momentarily distracted by the visual when she hisses, “Get up. You need to put your clothes on,” before she leaps off the bed and runs into the other room, closing the door behind her.
I blink my eyes a few times before I fall back on the bed with a roar of laughter. I know I’ll pay dearly for that later. As housekeeping calmly assures Alison her dry cleaning is in order, I’m sure her emotions are anything but. Deciding I’m probably in enough trouble, I decide to play along.
For now.
Rolling off the bed, I reach for my clothes where I left them in the chair last night. I shrug into the dress shirt, buttoning up but not bothering with the cuffs. I don’t plan on going into the office today. It’s time to put my life in order.
Pulling up the zipper to my pants, the door to the bedroom flies open, and Alison comes scurrying in with her dry-cleaned suit. She’s flushed from her conversation with the housekeeper or my kisses, I don’t know which.
“Baby, calm down. They’re not throwing us out of the room.” I saunter to the bathroom where she’s staring at herself above the mirror, a panicked look on her face.
“Keene, she almost walked in on us.” She’s mortified.
Sliding my arms around her, I grin. I can’t help it. “If we only spend time together in hotels, I’m pretty sure it’s bound to happen again.”
She swats at my arm before turning in my embrace. Leaning against the vanity, her head plants into the center of my chest. She’s shaking. My arms tighten protectively.
The next thing I know, her head is tossed back in laughter. “I was literally getting ready to slide my hand down your boxers, and all I heard was ‘Housekeeping.’ Got to admit, I’m not sure how long it’s going to take to get over that.”
I growl. Literally, growl. Boosting her up onto the vanity, I step in between her legs and push. “Soon would be preferable, baby.”
“Whoa,” she breathes.
I let out a breath of air that ruffles her fine hair. “Okay then. Plan of action. Get dressed—let’s go shopping for some clothes for you to wear while we figure out what we want to do with our day.”
“Not for nothing, Keene, but”—she lifts my hand with my Tag Heuer on it—“isn’t it a workday?”
“Not anymore. Get dressed. I’m texting our people to tell them they can handle any emergencies.” I slide my hand up her jaw.
Her earlier embarrassment forgotten, she slides off the vanity in front of me and turns on the taps before reaching for facial wash. “If you plan on being this autocratic, you can text my siblings to let them know I won’t be in as well.”
That answer is so much better than what I was expecting, I mutter, “For that, you can pick where we go to dinner.”
Her laughter and happiness radiates around the room.
Right here, right now, she’s back.
I sigh with relief.
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