Yours to Hold: Ribbon Ridge Book Two (13 page)

BOOK: Yours to Hold: Ribbon Ridge Book Two
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She pushed her pelvis into him, and with the motion, her head went farther back. He left her mouth to press hot, wet kisses over her neck. The distant sound of a car starting reminded her of their location.

She opened her eyes, loving the sight of his head bent toward her chest, his mouth trailing downward into the V of her neckline. “Kyle,” she said, barely recognizing the rasp of her own lust-filled voice. “We’re doing it again. In the middle of a parking lot.”

The unmistakable sensation of him smiling against her skin drew a soft laugh from her. His head came up swiftly, his eyes more blue than green as he looked at her with the same desire pooling in her core. “Shall we move this inside?”

“The casino?” She tried to think of how that could possibly be more private. But maybe they could find a nook or commandeer a bathroom . . .

His lips curved into a grin. “The hotel, silly.”

More like stupid. She’d forgotten about the hotel. The suggestion was unambiguous. Hotel rooms had beds. Was she ready to go there with him? Was she ready to go there with
anyone
? She hadn’t been after Mark.

“I don’t think they rent by the hour,” she said, her heart racing from the kissing and the prospect of more.

He lowered his head until his lips were a breath from hers. “Good. I don’t want just an hour.”

A delicious shiver ran down her spine. How could she refuse him? No man had ever looked at her like that, and her body had never responded with such heat and need.

“Okay.” She almost giggled with anticipation. Rational thoughts tried to crowd her brain—was this a good idea? Would she regret it? How would she deal with the aftermath?

Screw it
, she told herself.
You deserve this. You
need
this. Stop overanalyzing everything. Turn the therapist brain
off
.

She took his hand and started toward the hotel. “Let’s hurry.”

A
SEXUAL HAZE
clouded Kyle’s mind, shielding it from thoughts like
What are you doing? Don’t you remember who she is? Are you a moron?
The glass doors parted as they approached, and they entered the lobby under a blast of air conditioning. Hand in hand, they walked to the front desk.

Kyle smiled at the woman behind the counter. “We don’t have a reservation. Spontaneous trip.”

The employee, a woman in her late forties, peered at them curiously, her gaze searching for . . . probably their luggage. Oops.


Really
spontaneous,” he said.

“That’s fun,” she said with a smile. “We have toothbrushes if you need them.”

Kyle shot a glance at Maggie, who was staring off somewhere into the middle distance, trying vainly not to look embarrassed. He squeezed her hand.

After providing his information, ID, and the only credit card he allowed himself—one with only a five-hundred-dollar limit—they were checked in.

“Do you need two keys?” she asked.

“One will do,” Kyle said.

With a nod, she slid over a little envelope with the single key card. “You’re in four twelve. Go down the hall and take the elevator.”

“Thanks.” Kyle snatched up the key, and they turned to go down the hall. “Hang on.” He left Maggie and returned to the front desk. He lowered his voice. “Can you send up champagne later—say nine o’clock?”

“Actually, there’s already a bottle in the room,” she said as softly as he did. “It’s one of our romance suites.” She gave him a knowing look and winked.

He flashed her a grin. “You are the best front desk clerk in the history of front desks. Thank you.” He spun around and practically ran back to Maggie. Taking her hand, he started toward the hallway leading to the elevator.

Once they got out of sight of the front desk, she slowed. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.”

He stopped a few feet from the elevator. “The parking lot is better?”

“No.” She blushed and looked down. “This . . . I came here to talk to you, to help—”

He pulled her to his chest and kissed her. Hard and fast and then lingering and soft. She melted against him.

Moving quickly, he punched the up arrow and tugged her to the elevator. “Ride up with me, and if you’re still feeling uncertain, we can forget it.” God, he hoped that wouldn’t happen.

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened. A couple stepped out, and Kyle moved out of their way. Then he walked into the elevator and looked at Maggie. “You coming?” He held his breath.

The doors started to close. She leapt forward, causing the doors to jerk open again. With the force of her momentum, she lost her balance and crashed into him. He snaked his arms around her waist, holding her steady. Her gaze connected with his, and all he saw was heat and want—a reflection of his desire.

With a low sound coming from somewhere primitive, he dragged her up against him. She twined her arms around his neck and pulled him into her kiss. Her mouth opened beneath his, their tongues met and clashed. Her fingers curled into his flesh and tugged at his hair.

He clutched her waist and brought her hips flush to his. She pulled away, leaving him cold and surprised. She jabbed a button on the elevator panel, and ice slithered over his skin as he realized she meant to stop this.

The elevator stopped, and she came back, grabbing his head and bringing him down to her open mouth. She kissed him hungrily, like a starving woman, and he returned in kind.

“You stopped the elevator,” he managed between kisses. “So hot.”

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” She ran her palm over the front of his shorts, brushing his erection and driving him to the edge.

“I need you now.” He held her tight as he rotated and then restarted the elevator. He renewed the kiss and lifted her. “Put your legs around my waist.”

She did as he commanded. “Aren’t I too heavy?”

“You’re perfect.”

The elevator chimed again, and the doors opened. If anyone was waiting in the hallway, he didn’t notice. He didn’t even look. He carried her across to the wall, where he pinned her, his hips between her legs.

“Kyle,” she gasped into his mouth. “How is the hallway better than the parking lot?”

He looked around then. “No one here.”

She pulled her legs from his waist and slid to the floor. She grabbed his hand. “Room.”

Turning, she looked at the sign with the room numbers and their directions, then pulled him to the right. They traveled halfway down the corridor before she stopped in front of the door. “Four twelve.”

He pulled the keycard from his pocket and slid it into the reader. The light showed red. Goddamn it, why did those things never work the first time? He tried again, and it failed again.

“Let me.” She snatched the card from him and pushed it into the slot. Green.

She turned her head and flashed him the sexiest smile he’d ever seen on her. “Magic touch.”

“Show me.” He pushed the door open and drove her inside, stopping in the entryway to kick off his flip-flops and devour her mouth once more.

She kissed him with open abandon, her nails digging into his shoulders as excited little sounds emerged from her throat. He was so turned on, he could barely stand it.

The door slammed closed, and she backed into the room. Then her hands shoved at his chest, and again he wondered if she was about to call a halt.

“Holy crap.” Her expletive drew his attention, and he looked at their surroundings for the first time.

There was a king-sized bed splashed with several dozen red rose petals, a bar area with a sink, fridge, and champagne chilling on the counter, and a massive flat-screen TV, but the focal point of the room was the Jacuzzi tub in front of the bay windows that looked out over the rolling hillside behind the hotel.

“It’s the romance suite,” he said.

“You shouldn’t have.” She sounded awestruck.

“It was entirely the clerk’s doing.” He went to her, and she looked up at him, her eyes dark and lush, a thin band of gold lining the inner edge of the brown. He tipped her chin up and pulled on her lower lip with his thumb. Then he ran the pad straight down in a direct path, gliding over her neck as she cast her head slightly back. Down he went until he reached the V in her shirt, where three little buttons were sewn as some sort of taunting decoration because they didn’t open. He arced his hand to the right, cupping her breast.

She gasped and brought her head up, locking her gaze with his.

“I’d rip your clothes off, but since they’re all you have, I’ll be gentle.”

“I appreciate you not ripping them, but please, don’t be gentle.”

Her words stoked the heat swirling in the pit of his belly. His cock was already hard, but now it turned to stone.

He found the hem of her shirt and drew it up, exposing the smooth plane of her stomach. She lifted her arms as she swept the garment over her head and tossed it aside.

Her bra was pale green, bereft of any feminine adornment such as lace or bows, but her breasts filled it perfectly, their soft curves arching up from the cups. He leaned down and kissed the top of one, sweeping his tongue over her warm flesh. He felt her shiver.

He looked down at her shorts—khaki Bermudas. Her long, slender legs stretched out below them, and her feet were encased in brown wedge sandals. It was a hot, sassy look—the heels with the shorts. It surprised him a little, since she was such a good little doctor, always trying to keep him at arm’s length. Or so he’d thought.
Please, don’t be gentle.

He swallowed as anticipation spiked his lust.

“Kyle.” Her sultry voice—God, it did things to him he didn’t understand—broke through the cloud of passion that had overtaken his brain. “Do you have a condom?”

“Yes.” Thank God. At least two, he was sure. Not carrying a spare almost ensured a disaster. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and withdrew one, then tossed it on the bed. “Do you want champagne now or later?”

She unbuttoned her shorts and slid the zipper down. “Later.” She shimmied out of the garment and kicked it from her foot.

His mouth watered at the sight of her in bra and panties and sexy shoes.

“You like the shoes on?”

He jerked his head up, having been caught staring at them. “You have really sexy feet.”

She laughed, a dark provocative sound that fed his need. “I’m not sure I believe that, but whatever turns you on.”

He slipped his forefingers under her bra straps and slid them from her shoulders. “You.” He pushed the undergarment down, stripping it from her breasts until they spilled forth. “Turn.” Moving his hands to her back, he unclasped the bra. “Me.” He dropped it to the floor and lowered his head to her breast. “On.”

He closed his mouth over the tip, his hand cupping the underside and holding her captive to his tongue. She moaned as her fingers tangled in his hair and gripped his head. He fed on her, licking and teasing her flesh before moving to the other and performing the same. He used both hands to cup her, loving the size and feel of her—so soft and so smooth—and squeezed one nipple as he tongued the other.

Her legs quivered, and she clutched at his shoulders. She picked at his shirt, managing to pull it up his back. He let go of her long enough to tear it over his head and thrust it aside. Then her fingers dug into his shoulder blades.

He scooped her up and laid her back across the bed. She was breathtaking with her dark hair, hooded eyes, dusky-tipped breasts, and slender legs spread over the white bed and its shock of red rose petals.

Nearly ripping his button from his shorts, he shucked them but paused with his hands on the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Take them off,” she said, her voice husky and commanding.

He peeled them away slowly, enjoying the way her eyes followed his every movement. But then her gaze locked on his erection, and he wondered if he’d make it to the bed. She was seriously fucking with his self-control.

He climbed over her and straddled her hips. Her gaze was still glued to his cock as she licked her lips. He considered continuing upward and giving her what she clearly wanted, but he was too far gone and knew that if she put her mouth on him, he’d never get to where he wanted.

“You’re still wearing panties,” he said, running his fingertip along the upper edge.

She looked up at him finally, and he’d never seen her eyes darker. “You haven’t taken them off.”

“And that’s my job?” he asked playfully, running his finger inside the soft cotton and teasing her flesh. She arched up, urging him lower, but he didn’t comply. “You look so fucking beautiful like this. With the white and the roses.” He scooped up a handful of petals and spread them over her breasts and stomach. The crimson against her skin tantalized him. He plucked up a single petal and lightly grazed it over her lips. She sucked in a breath, and he dragged the petal over her chin and down her neck, sweeping lower to her chest and encircling first one nipple and then the other. He skimmed it lower, gliding over her abdomen, then leaving it over the cleft of her belly button.

With quick, fluid movements, he swung his legs over her until he knelt beside her, then raked her underwear down her legs.

She gasped with the swiftness of his act, her hips jerking up with surprise. With quick flicks of his fingers, he unbuckled her shoes and tossed them to the floor.

He moved over her again, kneeling between her thighs. She pulled his head down to hers for a wet kiss.

He groped on the bed for the condom, rejecting several rose petals before his fingers closed around the wrapper. He tore the package open between them and rolled the rubber over his cock.

“I’m on the pill too, if you care.”

“I care.” He finished with the condom and touched her, his finger gliding along her folds. He pressed in, finding her wet and ready. “I care about everything to do with you, Maggie.” He found her clit with his thumb and massaged lightly. She sucked in air and closed her eyes. “Right now, I care very much that you enjoy this. Are you enjoying this?”

He increased his pressure, attending to her clit and stroking her cleft. She moaned the word “yes,” and her pelvis rotated, urging him on.

“Good. I wanted to be sure. This is happening faster than I would’ve normally preferred, but thanks to your brilliance, we have all night. And champagne. And a hot tub.” He thrust his finger inside and drove deep.

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