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  Stick to the damn plan.

  Chapter Five

  I handed the cab driver a twenty and alighted outside the Waldorf. The doorman tipped his top hat as we pushed through the rotating doors into the creamy light of the foyer.

  I didn’t pause to admire the opulent decor.

  Instead my heels rapped on the marble floor as we strutted past reception. We paced by several deep lounging chairs and a table overflowing with pink orchids. Brick placed his hand in the small of my back and guided me toward the elevators. “Your room or mine?” he asked.

  “Yours.” I had what I needed in my purse.

  He gave me the most indecent smile I’d ever received. Triumph, lust and cheekiness mixed with softness, patience and desire. My heart fluttered and my skin pricked. He thought he was in control. That he had me where he wanted me. Well, I was just about to show him he’d met his match. Or rather, I was going to do my best to show him he’d met his match.

  He pressed number eight.

  We stood in silence and waited for the elevator to reach ground level.

  The doors pinged open. An elderly gentleman with a newspaper under his arm wandered out.

  We stepped in.

  The second the door whooshed shut, his body slammed into mine. I staggered backward and found myself pinned against the smoky mirrored walls. I gasped in surprise but it was lost in his frantic kiss. My purse fell to the floor. Unbalanced, I reached up for his shoulders and hung on to solid muscles as I teetered on my heels.

  His hands roamed my hips and waist. “You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured as he stooped to spread kisses down my neck. “Like, really, actually crazy. You’re all I can think about, you’re all I want.”

  I let out a whimper of lust and curled my fingers into him. I didn’t know how I was going to stay standing, I was so dizzy with desire.

  His mouth was at the hollow of my throat, licking and kissing and sucking. His hands smoothed under my top, up over my stomach. My flesh trembled. What plan? He carried on determinedly over my ribs until he cupped my softly curved flesh.

  I moaned in delight at feeling his hands on my breasts for the first time. So big and strong and hot. So hot.

  Trapped between the wall and his huge body, I arched for more. I wanted him to touch me all over.

  “God, you feel amazing.” He nipped and kissed my collarbone. Then my top was up, up around my neck, the material bunched and shoved out of his way in one deft flick of his wrists.

  I was vaguely aware of the elevator pinging up the floors. But the noise was muffled beneath our desperate breaths.

  He pulled back to gaze at my chest. “Ah, you look so pretty too, even better than you described. Small but so utterly perfect.”

  “Brick…” I murmured and caught his face in my palms. “We have to stop…”

  “Yeah,” he said, looking at my breasts the way a poor man would look at a winning lottery ticket. “In just a min—”

  He leaned forward and, quick as a flash, suckled my right nipple into his mouth. I gasped. Oh god, it felt so good. Just like he’d promised, he was taking in my nipple and the small, swollen portion of flesh surrounding it. Suckling and teasing with his tongue as the soft bristles from his five-o’clock shadow scratched against my flesh.

  My knees weakened; I didn’t know how I’d stay standing if he carried on for more than another few seconds.

  He switched to the other breast. With my palms on his cheeks, I felt them hollow and dip as he kissed and sucked. His mouth was the hottest, sweetest, sexiest thing I’d ever known.

  My knees started to sink. I was going down. I scrabbled my hands over his body and fisted his shirt to support myself.

  The elevator door slid open.

  Still he kept on. His tongue laved at my taut nipple, his hand massaged my other breast. His breaths were hard and fast, heating my skin further. He moaned and the noise swirled like a rumbling echo.

  White light from the corridor spilled around us and I peered over his wide shoulder.

  I gasped.

  Standing stock still and staring, with his hand curled around the silver pole of a luggage cart, was a young bellboy.

  “Brick, stop,” I hissed, pushing at his shoulders. “Stop.”

  “Mmm.”

  I grabbed for my top and yanked it down, forcing it past his nose and mouth. He had no choice but to stop suckling my breast.

  “What?” Brick asked in a hoarse voice, looking distinctly put out at being interrupted.

  “We’re here.” I pulled my top to my waist and grabbed my purse from the floor. “Look.”

  He snapped his rumpled shirt and turned, paused for the briefest of seconds as he registered the slack-mouthed bellboy, then reached backward for my hand. He cleared his throat. “Evening,” he said, stepping forward and tugging me with him.

  “Good evening, sir,” the bellboy replied, shifting the luggage rack so Brick and I could step past.

  I braved another quick glance at the bellboy’s face. His eyes were wide but I didn’t know if it was because he idolized Brick or because he’d seen my breasts.

  I didn’t have time to dwell on it because Brick stopped at the second door we came to and shoved in the key. The light turned green and he pushed it open.

  “Get in,” he ordered in a low, firm voice.

  I heard the elevator door ping shut. Untangling my fingers from his and crossing my arms over my chest, I stayed exactly where I was. This wasn’t going to be easy but it had to be done.

  “What?” His brow creased. “Now what?”

  “I need to get something straight,” I said, glancing left and right. The plush carpeted corridor was deserted. “I need you to agree to something before I step in there with you.”

  He gave an impatient huff. “Quit pretending you don’t want me, Carly. I know damn well you do.” He glanced at my straining nipples. “You’re so damn hot for it you’re about to combust.”

  I tipped my head to the side. “That might be, but if I go in your room we do this my way. You’re bigger and stronger than me but I want to run the show.”

  The corners of his mouth tilted and his eyes took on a sparkle of amusement. “Dominance. I should have guessed by the shoes.”

  I tried to make my face stern. “You keep your hands and your mouth and other parts of your anatomy to yourself.”

  “Sounds dull.” He licked his lips and twitched his brows.

  I pouted. “I promise you it won’t be dull. Do exactly as I say and it will be the opposite end of the spectrum to dull.” I softened my tone. “It will be better than you’ve ever had it before.”

  His eyes deepened to an even richer green. I’d certainly piqued his curiosity.

  “What if I can’t control myself?” he asked, jamming his back against the open door and folding his arms over his chest. He crossed one foot over the other as if he intended this to be a long conversation. Although the straining bulge behind his fly didn’t bode well for a rational conversation. “What if we get in, the door shuts and I jump your bones my way. What if I can’t help myself?” he asked.

  “I’ll scream as loud as I can,” I said. “Everyone will come running to see what you’re doing to me.”

  “You’ll be screaming in ecstasy, honey, they’ll know the difference.” He uncrossed his ankles and I struggled to drag my gaze from that damn impressive bulge.

  “I could just go to my room,” I said, taking a step toward the elevator and tightening my bag over my shoulder.

  He was silent.

  I took another step. My mouth dried, nausea clenched my guts.

  “I could just go to my room alone…” I said, turning to the elevator door. Say something, please say something. Invite me in. A rising panic swelled in my chest. I held my breath and refused to reach out and press the call button for at least one more second.

  “Come in, Carly,” he said quietly.

  I turned and saw a dirty grin playing with his lips.

  “Come
in and play your game,” he said, “but just remember, you play with fire, you’ll get burned.” He grinned. “In the sweetest possible way, of course.”

  Beating down the triumphant smile trying to burst over my face I asked, “And you’ll do as I say?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do whatever you say, honey,” he drawled, sounding as if he was more likely to do the exact opposite of what I said.

  “Good.” I tipped my chin and strode toward him, pressed my index finger into the center of his chest. “Make sure you do.”

  He chuckled and stepped aside to let me pass.

  The suite was bathed in a golden glow from standing lamps on either side of a plush burgundy couch. A flat-screen TV hung above a marble fireplace and the dense navy curtains were shut to block out the sirens and lights a scary eight floors below. I headed through a door to my left and studied the enormous bed. Its green and gold eiderdown comforter had been turned back and a single chocolate lay on the white pillowcase. I glanced at the headboard. Perfect.

  At the base of the bed stood a long dressing table, which held a TV and coffee machine along with several copies of Hockey Today. On the floor, I spotted a duffel spilling jeans and sneakers and t-shirts.

  The bedroom door clicked shut.

  I felt his body heat radiate on to me. He’d come so close behind me.

  “So what do you want me to do?” he whispered into my ear.

  His breath sent a delicious shiver down my neck and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to turn around and hurl my body at him. Beg him to do with it whatever he pleased.

  Instead, I tossed my purse to the base of the bed and turned. “Stand perfectly still,” I said, reaching for the top button of his shirt. “Stand perfectly still while I take your clothes off.”

  He pulled in a breath and I saw his nostrils flare. “You gonna take yours off?” he asked, watching my fingers work down his buttons.

  “I might.”

  I beat down the tremor that was threatening my movements. Reminded myself that this had been a major fantasy for so long and I couldn’t ruin it with nerves. I tugged the shirt from his pants and undid the last button. As the soft material came free, I caught a whiff of not just his gorgeous spiced aftershave, but also the scent of aroused male. Heated and heavy, it swirled with his pheromones and had blood racing to my pelvis in anticipation. He was addictive. I was hooked.

  I slid my hands up his hard, flat stomach, over silken feathered hair and ridged abs. My fingertips explored farther as my eyes drank him up. I traced the underside of his wide, defined pectoral muscles coated in that soft, downy dark blond hair and circled his small brown nipples until they tightened.

  His arms lifted and settled on my waist, his head dropped toward me.

  “Keep still and don’t touch me,” I ordered, shifting my hips.

  His arms fell away and he made a low growling noise.

  Standing on tiptoes, I pushed his gaping shirt until it draped over his shoulders.

  His breaths were slow but hard as his gaze bored into mine. There was a flush of color on his cheekbones.

  I walked behind him. His head turned to follow my movements but I lifted my hand to his jaw and urged him to look straight ahead. “Don’t move,” I reminded him.

  I tugged at his collar and the shirt slid down to reveal his impossibly wide shoulders. I dragged it off and dropped it on the dressing table, indulging in a moment of just looking at him, drinking him up with my eyes. He was divine. His skin, a deep gold, stretched taut over thick balls of muscle and sinewy strips of tendon. The long, deep gutter of his spine was highlighted by powerful ropes of muscle running parallel and the width of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist made him the perfect triangle. At the very base of his back sat the two most delicious dimples I’d ever seen. Partially hidden by his tailored trousers, but enough on show to know I could lick them all night.

  I reached out and touched his neck. Gently, just below his hairline, with my fingertip. His head tipped back a fraction and his shoulders lifted the smallest amount. He pulled in a breath.

  “Shh,” I soothed.

  Very slowly I ran my finger down his spine, deliberately feeling each vertebra. He was even more sublime than I imagined he would be. Faultless. Heart bursting with adoration and hardly able to believe I was finally getting my hands on him, I traced the arch of his back. Stroked over those two little dimples and delighted in the way his fists clenched at his side at my impossibly light touch.

  “Carly,” he said in a tight voice.

  I stepped in front of him. “It’s time to take these off.” I reached for the button on his pants and popped it open. His lips mashed together and his chest puffed as though he was holding in a breath.

  Finding the zipper, I dropped it over the solid bulge straining beneath. Looked up into his eyes and felt a tremble in my belly as my fingers brushed his hardness through the material. His eyelids were hooded, his lips slightly parted. I couldn’t trust how much self-control he had. Hell, mine was slipping away, fast.

  I had to act quickly for both our sakes.

  “Get on the bed,” I said, stepping away. “And lose the pants, shoes and socks.”

  “You better be quick with whatever this is you’re doing, honey, ’cause I’ve been wanting to be naked on a bed with you for some time now and my control is pretty much on zero.” He toed off his shoes and yanked at his socks. He shoved his smart black pants into a heap on the floor then sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Lie flat.” I pointed to the pillows.

  His big body stretched out, from the headboard right down to the bottom. I could hardly keep my eyes off the cock tenting his black Calvin boxers. All I could think of was the ring in the end. I imagined I could see the shape of it through the material. But I couldn’t be sure. Was it really there?

  “I’m all yours, honey,” he said, shoving one hand beneath his head. His chest rose and fell quickly and his biceps were bunched.

  I crawled onto the bed next to him, being careful to keep the spikes of my stilettos upward. “I know you’re all mine,” I said, reaching for my purse. “That’s why I can do this.”

  I pulled a pink silk scarf from my bag. Holding each end, I snapped it in front of my face as if showing off its strength.

  His brows lifted.

  I moved up the bed. Captured his free wrist in my hand and slid the silk beneath it. Tied a double knot.

  He looked at my handiwork with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

  “I’m helping you out with that ‘jumping my bones’ problem,” I said as I threaded the scarf behind one of the thick oak slats on the headboard. I pulled and created a tight knot that lifted his hand right up to the board. It was well secured.

  “You think that will stop me?” A cocky glint shone in his eyes.

  “Mm, maybe not one, but two will.” I pulled the second scarf from my bag and reached for the wrist angled beneath his head.

  I tugged at his wrist. Licked my red lips and felt his muscles give as he let me lift his hand from beneath his head. I twisted the scarf around his wrist and, like the other one, secured it to the headboard.

  I sat back on my heels and studied him. The perfect specimen of the male species, harnessed to a bed, practically naked and desperate for it. I sucked in much-needed oxygen as my gaze floated down the underside of his arm. Paler skin led to wisped underarm hair and then on to the faint outline of his stretched ribs.

  God, I wanted him. But not yet. The last thing I needed to do was rush. This was all about timing.

  “So now what?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and shifting his hips.

  I stuck my hand in my bag and pulled out my new raspberry lipstick. Slowly I took off the lid, rolled it to full height and added an extra layer to my mouth “Does this color suit me?” I asked, rolling my lips in on each other.

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s real sexy.”

  I bent and placed a kiss on his stomach. Just above his navel. It left
a bright, glossy mark on his skin.

  Perfect.

  “How’s that?” I asked.

  “Sure. A bit lower would be really good though.” His mouth tipped into a smile.

  I moved up to his chest, placed a red lipstick mark over first his left and then his right nipple.

  “Mm,” he said, “very artistic, but not quite what I had in mind.”

  I placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone. The lipstick was fading so I rolled it up again and reapplied. I settled over his face and, with my hair hanging down like curtains, kissed his left cheek and then his right, marking him with my lush red pout. I traced the seam of his mouth with my tongue, very lightly, very slowly. Tasting him, committing the contours of his lovely mouth to oral memory.

  Suddenly his tongue darted for mine. I rose up and his neck lifted to follow. He groaned in frustration as I held myself just out of his reach. I smiled then dropped so we could kiss lightly. He tried to force his tongue deeper into my mouth again and once more I lifted up. The headboard creaked ominously as his powerful shoulders tried to follow me.

  “Be patient,” I said, quietly studying his lipstick-smeared mouth. Scarlet gloss blurred the line of his lips and dashes of red had caught in the bristles of his stubble.

  “So stop the damn teasing,” he said in a low growl that vibrated through his chest and straight into mine.

  “I’m not teasing, I’m just doing it my way.” I sat up, reached for the clasps on my shoes and dropped them to the floor. I spun up the lipstick and reapplied, slowly, deliberately.

  His eyes narrowed, following my every move, his breaths coming fast. I shimmied down the bed, sat back on my heels and curled my fingers over the waistband of his boxers.

  His abs tensed, creating a neat row of bricks that angled across his tight abdomen. “The moment of truth,” I said, licking my lips and feeling a wave of heated lust race to my pussy. “Were you lying about the ring?”

  “Why the hell would I make it up?” His eyes were blazing hot. “Go ahead, take a damn look.”

  A thrill of delicious, primitive power went through me. I gave him a slow, sexy, merciless smile and studied the red lipstick marks that had branded him as mine. His mouth, his face, his collarbone, his chest, his stomach. Now I would claim his cock. Mark that as mine too.