with stylish furniture. The door opened to a wide sitting room with a couch and colorful throw pillows. A flat-screen television hung on the wall. A kitchenette and bar were on the opposite side, and the bedroom was visible through an open door across the room. Her eyes snagged on that room for a beat, imagining being laid on that stone-colored bedspread under Reid’s blue-eyed attention...
Her recently earned confidence took a sudden dip.
“Nice. This is nice,” she told him, her smile feeling brittle and forced.
“My company spoils me.” He walked to a desk in the far corner, lifted the phone’s receiver and murmured into it while she meandered around the suite. The bathroom was the size of her entire hotel room, the soaking tub wide enough for three people to sit comfortably.
“Champagne and strawberries are on their way up.” She turned to see Reid stuff his hands in his pockets, his expression handsome and affable. “You didn’t think I’d bring you up here and strip you bare right away, did you? Where’s the fun in that?”
He untucked his hands and came to her, cradling her jaw. “If you change your mind at any time, Christina, say the word. I’m not owed anything.”
“That won’t happen,” she whispered. “I need this more than you know.”
A flicker of concern sparked in his eyes before a flame of desire crowded it out. She rested both hands on his chest, and he took the invitation to kiss her deeply. The only sounds were the soft suctioning of their mouths and the gentle scrape of the material of her shirt as he moved his palms over her arms.
Drew hadn’t been with anyone since Chef Devin Briggs left her to start a family with another woman. Drew hadn’t been ready for a family. She’d been building her career and enjoying her freedom. Devin, eleven years older than her, had already established his career and was ready to settle down. It’d been a frequent topic of argument between them, and had eventually led to their demise.
She’d been single since he left, working hard and skipping sleep in pursuit of becoming the very best at what she did. As a result, she hadn’t had time to feel truly lonely. Christina had been there to distract her, chattering away about work or her own guy problems.
Drew had spent any free time she’d had researching and reading about food service and public relations, or staying up until the wee hours to call chefs in other countries who might be interested in lending their expertise to one of Fig & Truffle’s franchises.
In short, she hadn’t had the time or inclination to indulge her fantasies.
Until tonight.
Her fingers twitched with the urge to undo each button on Reid’s shirt and kiss a trail over his hard chest to the muscular bumps of his abdomen. At the same time, she worried that somehow he would see her—the former her. That the pounds she’d lost would reappear in his mind and he’d recoil, leaving her feeling unworthy all over again.
Ridiculous, she scolded silently.
He nipped her bottom lip before peppering kisses on the side of her neck. Her worries dissipated with each press of his lips. Overcome by longing and the sensations in her sex-starved body, Drew gave in to the experience that was Reid.
He must’ve sensed that she was through talking or stalling, because next he bent and lifted her, propping her back against the wall. He continued kissing her neck and collarbone as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He anchored her there with his hips between her open thighs and—oh!
Her center lined up perfectly with the hard ridge of his erection, which made its presence known as it pressed against her most sensitive spot.
“Ready, both of us, then.” He ground against her, sending her into a mental free fall.
She’d never imagined sex with him would be a reality. When she’d last seen him, she’d been eighteen and awkward and shy and quiet, and at that birthday party where she’d decided to wear the damn bikini, she hadn’t missed Reid flirting shamelessly with the female bartender. While he’d ordered a beer, Drew had sipped on mocktails without a drop of alcohol. It’d been a good reminder of the gaps between them—not only the handful of years separating their ages but also of his class and stature. Of his sheer beauty and her averageness. Like a great sequoia next to a plain maple tree, anyone could see how different they were.
Tonight, she’d prove to herself she was worthy of the great Reid Singleton.
“I’ve been ready longer than you know,” she said. His hair was thick and soft against her fingers. He smiled, his lips damp from kissing her. Once again she worried he was looking at her. Really looking.
She worried he might see that beyond her dark hair and curvy yet slimmer physique was the once-shy younger sister of Gage. She didn’t want to become suddenly undesirable or untouchable.
So not an option.
Distracting him as best she knew how, Drew stroked Reid’s crotch, pleased when the material of his pants tented invitingly. He groaned, his tongue plunging into her mouth as he took his sweet time.
She was ready—absolutely aching to have him inside her. He loosened his hold on her, and she untangled her legs from his waist to stand on her feet. She unbuckled his belt and worked his fly open as he tore his mouth from hers to suck in a breath. He freed her from her shirt and once her lacy pale pink bra was revealed, he froze, his attention on her breasts. They were generous and always had been, but appeared even bigger in the silky demicup bra she’d purchased to match her shoes. Her D cups were swollen and pressed together, her deep cleavage an invitation.
It was an invitation he eagerly accepted, cupping her breasts and lowering his face to kiss the tops of each one.
She’d worked hard on her body—keeping her waist trim and legs toned took a lot of work and effort. And since she’d worked hard, she was going to enjoy her reward. Him.
She unbuttoned his shirt as he slipped the bra straps off her shoulders, kissing her here and there as he did. She ran her hands over the expanse of his golden skin, and he tugged one bra cup down and sucked on her nipple. Her back arched, sending her breast deeper into his mouth, the resulting dampness in her panties a welcome warmth.
His mouth is the eighth wonder of the world, she thought, dazed by his skill.
He moved to her other nipple but before he could blow her mind, a sharp knock at the door preceded a call of “Room service!”
He lifted his face to hers, his eyes glazed with arousal. She fisted his hair in protest, and he winced in pain.
“Sorry,” she muttered, letting him go.
“No, I’m sorry.” He sent a baleful look in the direction of the door. She didn’t want him to stop or even pause. She didn’t want to give him a single moment to reconsider or change his mind. She couldn’t bear the rejection.
He lifted her hand and kissed her palm before bending to retrieve her shirt and pressing it over her exposed breasts.
“Bedroom.” His voice was rusty and sexy as hell. “I’ll take care of this.”
He crossed the room, his shirt and pants open, his hair a disaster.
Her
