Fight or Flight(38)

But almost immediately on the back of the thought came the image of Caleb leaning down over me at lunch, his lips whispering near mine, and the sensual promise in his enigmatic eyes.

No, I didn’t like the man.

However, I really, really liked how he made me feel.

Shake it off, Ava, I hissed at myself. You made the decision to have fun for once so don’t back out now.

I swiped the card over the panel and pressed the button for Caleb’s floor.

Once I got off the elevator, the click of my heels now dulled against the thick carpeted floor, I followed the signs for room 201 and sucked in a huge breath when I stood outside it, the flutters from my belly rising right up into my throat.

What was I so nervous about? It wasn’t like I hadn’t done this with him before. Although my inhibitions were slightly lowered by alcohol last time. Dammit, I should have had more than one glass of wine with my dinner to relax me. Instead, I’d gotten home around six thirty, barely able to concentrate on cooking or eating. I’d rushed through it so I could shower, shave, and primp. What I should wear had posed a dilemma, but I went for a simple black shift dress with simple black stilettos, silk hold-ups with a lace band around the thigh, and black lace underwear. Understated sexy.

Ava, you put on sexy lingerie for a man you don’t even like, I chastised myself as I raised my finger to the doorbell of the suite. You’re sure you want to do this? Last chance to turn back.

I wavered.

Then I pressed the doorbell.

Not a second later I heard movement from behind the door and a few seconds after that the door opened. My breath caught at the sight of Caleb Scott standing tall and imposing before me. He stared at me, his expression almost neutral, if it weren’t for those paradoxical eyes of fire and ice blazing at me.

This big, physically and verbally intimidating man, who I imagined never let anyone have a piece of him. What he didn’t realize was that his desire was a big part of him, and he was handing it over to me. He wore a white T-shirt that delineated his amazing physique and a pair of jeans that hung well on his narrow hips. Who knew a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt could be that goddamn sexy?

“Are you going to invite me in or just stare at me?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Both.” He stepped aside and I hesitated for a moment, which of course he picked up on. “Are you going tae come in or live the rest of your life regretting that you didn’t have one more night with the Bastard Scot?”

I tried to quell my smile but my lips turned up at the corners despite my best efforts. “You remembered my endearment. How sweet.” And with that I lifted one foot in front of the other and walked by him, my elbow brushing his stomach, his delicious scent causing a shiver to ripple down my spine.

I doubted very much the hotel suite was decorated to Caleb Scott’s taste. He struck me as a black and chrome kind of guy. Not the kind of guy to dig striped pale jade wallpaper, pale gold carpet, dark mahogany furniture, traditional New England essence. We stood in a living room that had a pale gold velvet sofa opposite a mahogany sideboard with a television. There was a matching coffee table between them. At the end of the room was a bay window I knew overlooked the Public Garden, but I couldn’t see the view because Caleb had drawn the curtains. Beside the window was a chair and a desk where he’d put his laptop and papers. To my left were glazed double doors, open to the separate bedroom, where I could see the king-sized bed.

I decided to peer inside the bedroom area out of curiosity, since I’d never been inside a suite here before (not to mention a need for distraction from the Scottish Viking behind me). On the left side of the room was an open doorway leading to the bathroom. From there I could see a long marble sink.

“Nice room,” I said quietly as I felt him step up behind me.

Caleb didn’t reply. Instead I felt his hands slide down over my shoulders to grip the lapels of my light coat. He tugged and I let my shoulders relax and drop so he could remove it.

I turned my head slightly to see him put the coat on the sofa. And then goose bumps flared and sprinkled along my neck and back as his knuckles brushed my nape while he gathered my hair in his hand and moved all of it over one shoulder.

“I guess the talking part of this is over,” I whispered, trying to sound amused instead of breathless and aroused. I failed.

At finding no zipper on the dress, his hands caressed their way down my sides until he found the hem. “You can still talk, Ava.” His voice rumbled behind me as he lifted the dress slowly. “Tell me how slow, fast, hard you want it.”

I shivered, raising my arms above my head as he pulled the dress up and over. There was silence behind me as I lowered my arms, so much so I felt a burst of nerves that caused my knees to shake a little. “I don’t do this,” I whispered, the words out before I could stop them.

“Do what?”

“Casual sex with men I don’t like.” Or casual sex at all.

He grunted. “You’ve already done it. Turn around.”

I did so slowly, hating that I was trembling. Hoping he couldn’t see it. Not wanting to be vulnerable to him in any way. Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to his face and felt that hard tug of need at the way his voracious gaze roamed over me.

“The Scot likes black underwear and hold-ups,” I teased, attempting to relax into this, to bring back our banter and ease instead of this volcanic sexual tension that was much too intense. I slipped off my heels.