Holding Strong. Lori Foster
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elevator stopped at her floor and, clutching Denver’s hand, she departed with a brisk, “Have a good evening.”
The hallway was empty, so after the elevator doors closed, Denver drew her up short and backed her to a wall. “What was that about?”
“What?”
“I don’t need you to defend me to that guy or anyone else.”
“I just stated facts!”
“And that bit with my hair?”
“It is sexy.” Again she trailed her fingers through it—and shivered—before getting serious. “But I wasn’t really defending you.”
“No?”
“You were giving poor Leese your patented death stare, and I figured you were about to level him, so...I wanted to defuse things.”
He drew back in insult. “You think I’d start brawling in a crowded elevator?”
“No. But you wouldn’t have to. Your ability is light-years away from Leese’s level and he knows it. He was already intimidated and acting like an ass. I didn’t want you to say anything that would...”
“What?” Even more disgusted, Denver asked, “Hurt his feelings?”
Gaze softening, her attention went all over his body. “Seriously, Denver. Did you really want to argue right now?”
He searched her face. “No.” Hell no. Especially not with her looking at him like that. He moved in again, one hand on the wall by her shoulder. “Thing is, I’m not sure you want what I want.”
For the longest time, their gazes held while her breathing quickened and her cheeks warmed. Finally, in a whisper, she asked, “Do you want me?”
With one short nod, he pressed her to the wall, feeling her all along his length. “Have for a long time.”
“You hid it well.”
“Then I’m one hell of an actor.” He brushed his mouth over her forehead. “We have a lot of talking to do, but I’d as soon do it after.”
“After?”
“After I’ve had you. Maybe several times.”
She dipped her head down so that he stared at the crooked part in her fair hair. He brushed his nose against her, down to her temple, her ear.
Her hands clutched at him. “I got the feeling you didn’t like me.”
“I like you.” It was how her flirting made him feel that he didn’t like so much.
“We’re finally going to have sex?”
Having her spell it out like that, as if he’d just given her a gift, added fuel to the fire. He closed his eyes, drew a breath. “That’d sure be my preference.”
Pushing him back so she could see his face, she asked anxiously, “You won’t change your mind?”
The laugh tried to escape, but he wanted her too much to take a chance on pissing her off. “Where’s your room?”
“Close.” On a sharply inhaled breath, she stepped him back a few paces and darted around him in a rush. “Come on.”
At first he just watched her, the sway of that stellar ass, how her breasts moved, her obvious urgency, the way her hair teased over her shoulders. She stopped halfway down the hall and fumbled in her purse before pulling out a key card. She opened the door, jammed the key card back into her purse, and glanced at him.
Ah, hell. Definitely close. In a few long strides Denver reached her.
Seconds later they were in her room.
A second after that he was kissing her.
* * *
OH GOD, HE tasted good, even better than she’d imagined—which seemed incredible because she’d done a lot of explicit imagining. Big and bold, he slanted his head and nudged her lips open so he could lick in with his hot tongue.
Whoa, the man seriously knew how to curl her toes.
And so much hunger! If she didn’t know better, she might think that he’d wanted her as much as she’d always wanted him. But that couldn’t be true because he was the one who’d started avoiding her. No way had she misunderstood that.
She just didn’t know why.
He was here with her now, though, and she wanted to do this right.
Gasping for air, Cherry said, “Wait.” He lifted his head but stayed close, his hard body pressed to hers, thrilling her. She’d wanted him for so long that the reality of this happening, finally, almost made her frenzied to seal the deal. She could feel his warm breath, the flexing muscles in his chest and arms, and the intimidating rise of his erection.
But if she thought about that right now, she’d totally lose it. Better to concentrate to keep things on track.
Holding on to his biceps—so sexy—she licked her lips, swallowed, and managed to say, “The door?” It still stood open because the second she’d stepped into the room he’d kissed her.
Slow, methodical, he slid one hand up her nape and into her hair, clenching just enough to hold her securely, keeping her right there against him.
That possessive embrace sent another thrill racing through her, turning her breath short and shallow, her heartbeat fast and furious.
With the other hand he shoved the door closed and turned the lock, then went one further and flipped the security latch. That all seemed so final that her knees trembled.
His hand in her hair tugged, tipping her head back and away to give his open mouth access to her throat, tasting her skin, sucking and licking down to her shoulder, then concentrating where her frantic pulse raced.
She couldn’t help but groan at the feel of his teeth, his hot tongue. “Denver...”
He kissed his way back up to her mouth.
So much heat suffused her, she felt light-headed. At the last second, she turned her head. “I need five minutes for a shower.”
That clever hand in her hair brought her face back around. “Later.” And then his mouth was on hers again, his tongue delving, consuming.
Making her forget herself.
She clutched at him, uncaring that she was a little worn from so much dancing, that she’d wanted this first time with him to be perfect.
His free hand went to her waist, kneading her before gliding up her ribs without quite touching her breast, back down past her hip to the curve of her backside. His big hand opened on her, cuddling, stroking her bottom, lifting her to her toes.
He was so big all over that she felt dwarfed next to him. He crowded her more, caging her against the wall as his hand teased back up her body.
When she made a soft sound of anticipation, he eased up, gently kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, then locked onto her gaze. Their breaths mingled as his fingers hooked in the V-neck of her shirt and stretchy lace bra, and tugged them both down until he’d freed one breast.
She felt the cooler air on her bared skin, her sensitive nipple. Low light filled the room from the bedside lamp she’d left on, but he didn’t look at her there.
Still with a hand in her hair, staring into her eyes with an intent expression, he cupped her.
Her lips parted; his gaze went heavy.
“Fuck, you feel good.”
Heart thundering, she closed her eyes as he drifted his thumb over her taut nipple.
“Look at me, Cherry.”
Oh, that husky voice. She got her eyes open, and it was so startling,