“Not far, then.”
“No.” Amusement laced his tone, and I peeked up at him to find his lips twisted into a smile.
“Something funny?”
“Yeah. You.”
He stopped and moved into my body, pressing me against a shop window. My heart skipped a beat at the suddenness of his mouth on mine. Passionate. Urgent. Domineering. I melted against him as one hand gripped my hair, the other my jaw, angling me while he decimated everything I’d ever thought about being kissed.
His tongue demanded entry, and I acceded, following his lead, stroke for stroke. His chest rumbled with a possessive growl, his cock hard and filled with promise. My pulse pounded, my blood roared, and my knees buckled, a physical reaction to the devastation he wreaked on me with a single kiss.
And if this was what he kissed like, then fucking him would ruin me.
He broke away, his broad chest rippling beneath his suit jacket as he fought for breath. Eager to participate as a full partner, I gripped the lapels and yanked him back to me. This time I governed the pace, the pressure, and despite authority seeping from every pore, he surrendered control, if only for a few seconds.
Someone wolf-whistled, breaking the spell. I dropped back to my feet from where I’d strained on tiptoes to nestle in close.
“Five minutes, you say?”
“If we walk fast, we can make it in four.”
“And if we run, we can cut it down to three.”
He chuckled. “I love the idea of you gasping for breath, but I’d hoped for a different catalyst.”
“We’re wasting time.”
His eyes burned like fire in the luminance from the streetlight, and he licked his lips. “Your desire for urgency is making me hard.”
He gripped my hand and marched down the street, the length of his stride meaning I had to jog to keep up with him. Sprinting up a set of steps in front of a towering building, we entered a lobby that teemed with affluence. I’d correctly assessed the wealth of the man beside me, and for the first time, I hesitated.
What was I getting myself into?
“Ethel?”
He’d walked on a couple of steps before realizing I hadn’t kept up. I blinked, then smiled at hearing my fake name on his kissable lips, the moment of reticence vanishing.
“I’m coming.”
“Oh, yes, you are.”
He grinned, and I rolled my eyes. “Is that the best you can do?”
“If we’re talking about double entendres, then yes, probably. If we’re talking about orgasms, then no. Absolutely not.”
“Sure of yourself, aren’t you, Ant?”
“I’ve had no complaints.”
He urged me into the elevator and—surprise, surprise—entered a card into the slot above the keypad and pressed the button marked PH.Penthouse.
The doors swished closed, and he wasted no time in making a move. Distracting me with his lips, he tugged my blouse from the waistband of my skirt and slid his hands over my bare skin. Goose bumps scattered along my arms, the back of my neck, my spine. My bra popped open, and he shoved the cups out of the way, caressing my breasts. My insides pulled tight as he twisted both nipples, and I moaned into his mouth.
The elevator dinged, the doors gliding open without a judder in sight. Clothes askew—well, mine were; he still looked pristine—he towed me through a foyer painted a pale cream with a gray tiled floor. A sculpture of a naked woman adorned an enormous glass table, but I didn’t get a second to appreciate it. Nor did he give me time to appreciate the city lights beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the waterfront. It all passed in a blur as he towed me along.
And then we were in his bedroom, the space dominated by a bed a good foot wider than he was tall. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over a high-backed chair. His tie came off next, and he unfastened the top two buttons on his shirt, giving me a peek of smooth, tanned skin and the merest hint of chest hair. Not a lot, just enough to be manly. I had a thing for a dusting of hair on a man’s chest, and from where I was standing, Ant ticked all my boxes.
He prowled toward me, a predator who’d cornered his prey. Except I was a willing participant in my fate.