Hell on Heels (Hotel Rodeo #1)(35)

He kissed her then, not just to seduce, although there was certainly some of that in the mix, but also to soothe and ease her doubts. He claimed her lips in a way that reassured as much as ravished, taking down her defenses with gentle but persistent persuasion.

She moaned softly into his mouth as he reached down to stroke between her wet thighs, probing two fingers inside her. Her inner muscles squeezed and her body shuddered. He watched her face as he prodded his shaft between her thighs.

Continuing to kiss and coax, he slowly entered her, advancing by torturously slow inches, stretching and filling her until he was seated to the hilt. Their gazes remained locked as he remained motionless, waiting and pulsing deep inside her. Just when he thought he couldn’t hold back any longer, she wrapped her legs around his flanks, urging him with a needy sound that made him want to pump to a fast, hard climax. But he still held back, rocking his hips in measured and deliberate undulations, withdrawing and thrusting slow and shallow, then hard and deep, watching her face, her eyes, keeping in tune with her every response, needing to make her come beneath him.

Her sighs morphed into pants. Her hands squeezed his ass as she met every stroke. He meant to punish her for making him work so damned hard, but her moans and sounds of pleasure nearly broke him.

“Let it go, Monica. I can f*ck you all night if I have to. I’m not gonna stop until you scream.” He thrust harder, deeper, driving her into the mattress. “Give it up,” he growled, his balls throbbing for release.

Her body tensed. She sucked in a gasp. Her eyes widened and then fluttered shut on a long shrill cry as orgasmic tremors overtook her.

He groaned, his body racking with jolts of pleasure as her walls contracted and convulsed in aftershocks that brought him to his own finish.

When he rolled off, he found her watching him with the soft smile of a well-f*cked woman. Holy shit. She wore that look well. Too well. It overwhelmed him with the desire to do it to her all over again. Wasn’t once supposed to have been the cure? This was supposed to be just another mindless recreational f*ck. So why the hell did it feel like something more?





Chapter Twelve


Monica awoke to the pungent scent of sex—sheets scented with their mutual musk and a pillow that still bore the indent of his head. He was gone without even waking her? She rolled over with a groan, burying her face into her own pillow. Why, oh why had she done it? And what the hell was she going to do now?

She realized she was in real danger of falling for a man who wasn’t willing to offer her anything beyond great sex. It was obvious by his abrupt departure that she was nothing more to Ty than a convenient bedmate, but mind-blowing sex wasn’t enough. She needed more. She wanted to love and be loved. It was the only thing she’d ever truly wanted.

She buzzed housekeeping for clean linen and then ripped the sheets from the bed. Minutes later she was under a steamy shower, washing away the last, lingering reminders of the best night she’d ever had. She hated this feeling of insecurity, of being emotionally invested without any return, but Ty had made it clear. He hadn’t even tried to hedge about it. He was an unapologetic player. They’d had a great night together, but it was done now. Time to move on. He surely had.



An hour later her driver pulled into The Oasis. Monica sucked in a breath at the sight of Ty’s truck in the parking lot. So that explained why he’d sneaked out, but it still irked her that he hadn’t woken her first. It just seemed like the right thing for him to do. Then again, what would she have said to him? Thanks for the multiple orgasms? She realized she wasn’t ready to see him or talk to him, so she sat there stupidly, waffling with indecision. Should she just leave and hope he hadn’t seen her?

Frankie put the car in PARK.

“Wait a minute.” She stalled as he reached for the door.

“Something wrong, Ms. Brandt?”

“I think I forgot my phone.” She grabbed her purse, pretending to rummage. “Damn! It’s not here. We need to go back to the hotel.”

She startled at a light rap on the limo window. She looked up to find Ty standing there. Damn.

“You know him?” Frankie asked.

“Yes, Frankie. He’s a”—Business associate? Lover? She settled for—“friend.”

Frankie lowered the window.

“Good morning to you, Ms. Brandt.” Ty greeted her with a smug smile.

“Wh-why are you here?” she asked.

His brows rose. “Excuse me? I brought Rosa to see Tom. Remember? I mentioned it last night.”

“Right. Sorry.” She’d forgotten all about Tom’s housekeeper.

“A bit preoccupied this morning, Ms. Brandt?”

“Jackass,” she hissed.

He actually had the balls to laugh. “Can I buy you breakfast?” He looked at his watch. “Or maybe I should have said lunch. Guess you were real tired, huh?”

“Stop it, Ty. You’re not funny. And I don’t have time today. I have some things to take care of.”

“Later, then? You free for dinner?” he asked. “You haven’t had much chance to see the town since you’ve been here.”

Why was he acting so damned normal when she could barely keep it together?

“Thanks, Ty, but Frankie here has already offered to show me around. Besides, I’m busy tonight.” Another lie, but she resisted any notion of spending more time with Ty.