Page 58 of Great Pretender
He ushers me away, and I don’t ask any questions. I just walk with him, through the hall of guests, then the door, and down the passageway.
We walk straight into the elevator, and it’s only when the doors close, locking us away from everyone else, that Chad releases his grip on me and faces me. But only to catch my face and gaze at me deeply.
“What are we doing?” I murmur.
“Something else.”
“Like what?”
At first, he looks nervous, but then a cocky smirk flashes across his face, and he lowers his lips to mine.
At first, I’m nervous too; confusion sets in, then it doesn’t. Anything that resembles confusion fades from my mind when his tongue tangles with mine, and the kiss he gives me turns hungry and consuming. Earth-shattering and mind-blowing.
This kiss is one for us. There are no cameras around, nobody to see us, no act for us to star in tonight.
This is us.
We pull apart when the elevator stops and the doors slide open. Then he holds out his hand to mine, beckoning me to take it.
“I want you. I want you to spend the night with me. That’s what I want to do. Do you?”
That question is a no-brainer.
“Yes.” I take his hand, and lust takes over.
We head to our room, and once inside, he reclaims my lips and moves with me until we crash into the wall.
I always imagined something like this happening, but I figured we’d be careful, and there would be parts that would feel weird. But I don’t feel anything of the sort. It’s then I realize why.
It’s because all this time, we were masquerading as friends. That part was the act, and the last few months were the real us.
He deepens the kiss when I tug on his shirt, and he takes off his jacket.
Our tongues tease and tangle, and I savor the taste of him. He smells like sex and raw masculinity. Like passion and heat, desire and need. All rolled into one.
His lips move from mine and trail a path of fire to my neck, where he nibbles on the skin.
I feel like I could die from the thrills racing through me, curling my toes and making my body come alive from the inside out.
I almost feel like I will die when he stops kissing and touching me and takes a step back.
“No, don’t stop,” I blurt, fearing he’s changed his mind.
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to. I just want you to take your clothes off. I want to watch you take your clothes off. Do it for me, Angel.”
Holy hell. Nothing is sexier than him calling me that, nor his request, which I can definitely heed.
While he watches me with keen, hungry eyes, I pull the zipper down the side of my dress and push the straps down my arms. That’s all I need to do for it to float down the length of my body.
Since I’m not wearing a bra, as the dress pools at my feet, I stand before him in just my lace thong and heels.
The look he gives me turns from hunger to greed as his gaze lingers on my pebbled nipples.
He looks me up and down, and then he circles me and stops behind me, running a firm hand over the cheeks of my ass.
“Jesus… I don’t know how I resisted you for so long,” he states.
“Resisted?” I want to hear it all.
