Page 5 of Worth the Risk

“And I’m going to kiss you.”

I lean down and capture her mouth, an instant hit of lust and martini creating the only taste I want on my lips. My tongue swipes along the seam of her mouth, and she willingly opens her lips to offer me more. Our spark creates a wildfire that will burn down the entire earth… okay, crazy talk hitting me.

I pull her tight to my body, our lips never parting, then lift her slightly up as I stretch my arm out with the keycard. We find our way inside the luxurious suite, and the moment we finally create space between us, Piper takes in her surroundings, her lips swollen.

She notices the chilled champagne in a bucket. “Who are you? We literally checked in only five minutes ago and already this is here. Not to mention, I noticed security give you a nod.” Her question is more amused than curious.

I walk to the bottle as she continues toward the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. Damn, she is a scene. She takes no notice of me as she looks out and tosses her jacket to the side. Even when I pop the cork on the champagne, she doesn’t flinch. Instead, she seems mesmerized by the view, at peace even.

“No champagne for me. I want to do this before I lose my nerve.” She glances over her shoulder in my direction.

I pause my work on the bottle. “You know, we can just talk.” I feel a need to reassure her, touch base, and to be honest, just sharing the same air in this room with her is enough to put me at ease and make my night.

We don’t need to do more. But her in my arms, preferably naked, would be even better.

She turns around and begins to stroll slowly in my direction. “Talk?” She tilts her head with an adorable laugh. “After that kiss? Not a fucking chance.” Then she springs into my arms.

My cock rises to the occasion, happy with her choice. Our lips are all over one another, and I debate fast or slow.

Slow.

Fast.

This is like an aggravating play in the scrimmage zone, but at least I know that I’m going to get the touchdown.

Her sounds are lost in our mixed breaths, and I have my answer.

“Slow,” I say.

Setting her down, taking her wrists gently in my hands to hold them up, I look down at her thinking she is way too beautiful to be alone for a Tuesday night. Whoever let her go is a moron, but I should send him box seats because it means I get to have her now.

“Let me take something off,” she whispers with a seductive grin.

I bring my finger to glide along her cheek. “You do that, then look out at the view that you were admiring.”

“Yes,sir,” she teases me, and I have to shake my head again. “Sit down,” she demands.

I love her confident effort to add to our dynamic, and I move to sit on the chaise lounge in the corner. I get comfortable, untuck my shirt from my pants, and begin to unbutton my shirt, with my eyes glued on the show.

She swipes her hair to one side, lifts her blouse off, then shimmies off her skirt. Her mint-green lace lingerie set is a sight for sore eyes, with the bra cups full, the color of lace a perfect contrast to her pink shoes. I could come just looking at her right now.

“An original?” I wonder as I squint my eyes as if it will magically magnify the view.

Her fingers cascade down her skin from her neck to between her cleavage. “Uh-huh, private collection in fact,” she rasps.

“Lucky me. Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” I ask.

“I do.” Piper has confidence, that’s for sure. She flashes me a coy look before walking to the window. “So, about that safe word…” She trails off.

Shaking my head ruefully, I grin, but I also can’t control the urge inside me to consume her until she melts into the mattress.

I pounce off the seat and grab ice from the bucket on my way to Piper. I throw away a few cubes until I have one trapped between my fingers. Noticing the way her body shivers, her nipples pebble, and every inch of her is screaming to be discovered, I don’t delay.

“Hands against the window, Piper,” I order.

The moment her hands hit the glass, the piece of ice between my fingers lands on the side of her stomach, causing her to flinch as the ice begins to melt against the heat of her body.

I smirk to myself, wondering if she will ever figure out my connection to football. “Your safe word can be ‘foul.’”

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