Page 4 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad

He booked the room, and we were both silent as we rode the elevator up to our floor. Brett opened the door and let me in.

He headed toward the table by the window. “Here’s the menu. Would you like to eat now?”

I don’t know what came over me. He stood in his fancy suit, his silvery-blond hair glistening from melting snow crystals, and his mouth smiling at me... a mouth I could still taste on my lips... and I knew food wasn’t what I wanted.

He tilted his head to the side. “Want to work up an appetite?”

I nodded.

He strode over to me, his eyes turning predatory. He maneuvered me back toward the bed. “I’m going to knock you on your ass again and not be sorry about it.”

“Ah, okay.”

He pushed me back. I bounced on the bed in a way that couldn’t have been sexy. I had a moment of nerves. Well, I was all nerves because I’d never done this before. But I had a new set of them wondering if he’d still be attracted to me once he got all the layers of clothes off me. I wasn’t like plastic lady who probably wore a size two except around her fake boobs. I was what my grandmother had called full-figured. Nor did I wear fancy underwear or wax my private parts, all of which I’m sure Ms. Plastic did.

He undressed me, but as my shirt came off, I crossed my arms over my plain white bra. He arched a brow. “Problem?”

“I’m not plastic.”

“Thank God.” He let me lie there, covering my lady bits like a silly girl. “I’m dying to see your tits, Miranda.”

Arousal shot through me from his words. I pulled my hands away, and his hands immediately divested me of my bra. Moments later, I was completely naked and feeling vulnerable as he sat back on his knees and his eyes inventoried my body.

I shifted. “If you don’t like what you see—”

“You’re joking, right?” His fingers brushed over my nipple, making it ache with need. He leaned over, sucking it into his mouth.

“Oh!” I gasped as another shockwave tore through me.

“Fucking hell. This is going to be spectacular.” He stood, taking his shirt and belt off but leaving his pants on.

“What about—”

“First, I’m going to taste every inch of your delectable body and make you come in a screaming orgasm. Then I’m going to fuck you. Are you okay with that?”

“Ah... yeah... okay.”

He cocked his head to the side, his gray eyes studying me. “Are you new to hookups or sex?”

“What?” My brain was on the fritz, and I couldn’t keep up the conversation.

“Are you nervous because you’ve never hooked up like this or because you’re a virgin?”

My breath hitched. I’d let a total stranger lead me to a hotel room because my body was burning up from lust when I’d never, ever been with a man before.

“Hookup.” He didn’t need to know I was a virgin.

“Okay. Good.”

“What if I were a virgin? Would you have stopped?”

“Only if you told me to. I’d just be more careful.” He arched a brow. “Do you want to amend your answer?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know why I lied to him. Maybe I was embarrassed that at twenty-two, I was still a virgin.

“Okay, then. It’s time for me to feast.” The minute his lips were on my skin, all my concerns and nerves ended. There was only sensation. Each touch of his lips or hands sent sparks of electricity coursing through me. I felt like a spring being coiled tighter and tighter.

I might have been a virgin, but I’d had an orgasm before, so I knew what the pressure meant. But touching myself was nothing compared to being touched by Brett.

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