contained behind his zipper.
A big ridge. An overstressed zipper.
A whimper escaped her mouth, but he took it from her lips, kissing her again—deeply, hungrily. He plunged his tongue against hers, exploring her, tasting her, ravishing her.
Twining her arms around his neck, she let him take her places with that kiss, loving the feel of him pressed against her. Every inch of him was hard, which so appealed to every inch of her softness that she moaned out of sheer helpless need.
His tongue continued to dance with hers, hard and then light, teasing a response out of her. She was responding as she never had to anyone, craving his kiss, his strength, his body. She loved everything about it, from the silkiness of his tongue, to the warmth of his breaths, to the taste of mint and lime and gin on his lips.
Pushing her into the rear corner of the elevator, he began to pull at her bunched skirt. Viv lifted a leg and twined it around his, arching against him, almost crying in anticipation of being filled by that powerful cock pressed against her sex. She was wet, steamy hot and separated from what she wanted by only a few layers of clothes. It was exquisite torture, for him as well as her.
Hearing his groan as he, too, bemoaned the barriers, she chuckled throatily.
“Witch,” he grumbled. “Better be careful or I won’t wait until we get to my suite.”
“Who told you to wait?” she purred, her mood edgy, dangerous and wild. The elevator could stop at any floor before reaching the top one, where he said his suite was located. But she honestly didn’t care. She’d never taken that kind of risk in public...but he made it sound worthwhile.
“Very well, then. I won’t,” he said, a dangerous smile widening his mouth and making those dark eyes gleam.
Called on her dare, Viv sucked in a surprised breath, wondering just how far he intended to go.
It turned out, he went too far for her liking—all the way to the front of the elevator car. Hmm.
Glancing over his shoulder at her, a self-satisfied expression on his face, he pushed the emergency-stop button on the control panel.
Viv gaped, hearing an alarm go off somewhere in the elevator tower. Damien wagged his brows, appearing utterly mischievous. There was nothing boyish about the man, he was all adult male, yet that expression said he’d probably been a holy terror as a kid.
God, she liked holy terrors.
A voice emerged from a speaker set below the panel. “This is security, what’s happening?”
Damien pulled open a small box that contained a phone, obviously for emergencies only. He lifted it and spoke into the handset. “This is Damien Black, from the penthouse suite.”
Penthouse? Nice! No wonder he’d suggested room service—if she was staying in the penthouse of a place as ritzy as this, she’d never leave.
But you are leaving in the morning, she reminded herself.
Right. This was a one-night stand so she could get back in the saddle and get over being fired. She couldn’t get emotionally involved with anyone until she got her life straightened out. And even then, it wouldn’t be with a gorgeous rich guy who probably picked up women in cities all over the world. One who didn’t “do” relationships.
She could take being his DC-area pickup...as long as she remained emotionally disengaged and never looked beyond tonight. It was when she expected or hoped for more that she got bitten in the ass. While she wouldn’t mind this guy nibbling on her posterior, she didn’t want to be left with any real, lingering scars.
“Yes, we’re fine, thank you.”
She couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, now taking place only through the emergency phone, and could only imagine the security guy was asking why they’d stopped the elevator. Part of her wished Damien hadn’t bothered; they would have probably reached the top floor by now if he hadn’t pushed that button. Another part loved that he’d pushed it because he hadn’t wanted to wait one more minute to have her.
“There’s no real problem, I just wanted to test the alarm and the emergency procedures.”
The person on the other end of the call spoke more loudly, but Damien, staring at her, barely paid attention. Viv sensed a naughty opportunity to twist the screws even tighter. Reaching up, she slowly slid free the next button on her blouse to reveal the curves of her breasts, covered by a pretty, lacy bra. She had nice breasts, not huge, but high and firm. More than one man had gotten a little stupid over them.
His only reaction was a slight tightening of his grip on the phone handle.
“Give your supervisor my name and then put him on the phone,” he finally said with a heavy sigh, as if he’d grown tired of hearing the other man’s arguments.
The fact that he was going over the security guy’s head indicated he knew the hotel really wanted to keep his business. Of course, nobody wanted his business more than she did right at this minute, particularly judging by how big and hard that business had felt pressed against her.
After a brief pause, someone else apparently spoke on the other end of the phone call. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but after a moment, Damien said, “Yes, I am. And it’s quite all right. I’m sure you’re doing a fine job in security. Please just give me five minutes and then I’ll restart the car.” He glanced up at the corner. “And turn off the in-car camera.”
She stared up at the black dome, which concealed a camera. She’d been so heated up by her sexy companion that she hadn’t even noticed it. Honestly, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d have cared if she had noticed it. She wasn’t an exhibitionist, but she wanted Damien Black that much.
To her shock, a small red indicator light blinked off. Amazement filled her as she wondered just how the guy could get a security camera shut off with a phone call.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Somebody who spends a lot of money at these hotels.”
“Are you a platinum member of their frequent guest program or something? Is that why they kiss up to you no matter what crazy request you make?”
He shrugged. “Something like that.”
“You do realize they were watching us on the camera and know exactly what we’re up to, even though it’s now off?”
“Of course.”
“And you don’t care?”
“No.”
“But...”
“Do you really want to waste what time we have talking about this?” he asked, stalking closer, each slow step an exercise in restraint, as if he wanted to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind.
As if.
“No, I really don’t,” she replied.
“Good.”
He burned her with a hot, possessive stare. The
