Wherever It Leads(21)

“Everything look all right?” he asks.

I want to let him know exactly how all right things look from my perspective and that it has nothing to do with the room, but rather the man standing in front of me. His jaw tenses as he waits for my reply.

“This is just spectacular, Fenton,” I coo, deciding to keep it about the more permanent features. “Honestly. I don’t even know what to say.”

He saunters towards me in what would appear a relaxed manner, but it’s not. I can see the truth in his steely eyes. He’s on a mission—for what, I’m not sure. But I’m hoping to know soon.

I nibble my bottom lip and watch him near. His features have darkened, the playfulness of only moments ago now long gone. He stands so close we nearly touch, but the bastard doesn’t allow that to happen. That would be too easy. I’m learning that he likes to torture me with his self-restraint, something I thought I had in spades but he swipes away with his deft skill.

“This is my favorite room in this hotel,” he says, looking down at me. “But I have a feeling after this week, it’s never going to look the same.”

“Is that so?” I gulp.

He grins. “It is. Or I hope so, anyway.”

I start to respond when he reaches out and touches the side of my face. His skin is smooth and warm as he caresses my cheek, his thumb stroking my jaw deliberately. My breath hitches in my throat and I fight not to lean into his touch. It would be too easy. Way too easy, and I want to show him I too have some restraint. Maybe. Barely.

“I have to work for a couple of hours,” he says.

“What?” His words are like cold water being dumped on my head. I guess the suit should’ve been a giveaway, but it still shocks me that he’s leaving me already.

He drops his hand and chuckles. “I do. Just for a little bit. I did come here to work, remember?”

“Oh, of course. I just . . . I . . .”

“Did you have something else in mind?” he teases.

My cheeks heat. I shake my head, my long locks swishing against my shoulders.

“I think you did, Brynne.”

He tips my chin with the touch of his finger so I’m looking at him again. “I’ll tell you a secret. I had something else in mind as well. But something has come up and I have to go. But what you had in mind? We’ll get to it, I promise. Whatever you envisioned, I’ll make happen.” His head bows slightly, leaving a shadowy look to his features. “And I’ll make it happen in a way you’ll never forget.”

He removes his touch and I instantly miss it. Crave it. Need it.

“When the time comes, I don’t want to be rushed. I want to take my time with you. That’s the reason I’m not touching you right now, okay? I want that to be very clear.” He leans in, his breath dancing across my cheek. “When I finally touch you, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

He steps back, putting much more space between us. The energy in the room swirls, so charged that I get a little light-headed. Fenton watches me for a long minute before turning toward the door. He stops in the entryway and faces me.

“If you need anything, you have my number. Or call the front desk and they’ll arrange for whatever it is.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“A couple of hours. Three at most. But trust that I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

He leans against the wall, one hand stuck in his pocket. He looks calm and collected. And he’s leaving me like this—a wound up ball of sexual energy. That’s not fair.

He sweeps my body with his eyes. I can feel them roaming over my shoulders, down my breasts, over my hips, and pushing slowly down my legs. He licks his bottom lip and I’m done.

Screw restraint.

“Hey, Fenton,” I say, moseying unhurriedly towards him. My heels click against the floor, each step a douse of gasoline on an already burning flame. He shoves off the wall, his eyes flickering until I stop a couple of inches away from him. “Hurry back, will ya?”

Before I can talk myself out of it, I rise up and press my lips against his. I’m not sure what his reaction will be, but I won’t be the only one waiting around flustered for him to come back.

As soon as contact is made, his arms are wrapped around my back, pulling me deliciously into his rock-hard body. Our mouths move against one another, a frenzied, yet luxurious pace. The rhythm is immediate, like they’ve done this a hundred times before.

His lips are soft against mine, his breath hot with a touch of sweetness. My fingers find the back of his silky hair and I urge him on, relishing the contact with the hottest man I’ve ever seen. His large palms press against the thin fabric of my shirt, the friction and pressure searing.

Way too soon, he pulls back, a huge smirk on his face. With raised brows, he shakes his head. “Keep that up and this entire trip will be futile.”

“I’m not sure how bad that would be,” I breathe, my voice raspy.

He glances at his watch and laughs. “I’m late and you’re making me want to blow off a meeting I’ve been after for six months.”

Guilt swamps me. I take a few steps back and motion for him to go. “I’m sorry, Fenton. Go. Go work.”

He laughs and comes to me, planting a sweet kiss on my lips. “Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for that, Brynne. I’ll just have to talk to my associates with a raging hard-on.”