Practice Makes Perfect(68)

Devilish grin.

“I certainly hope so.”

J.D. PRESSED PAYTON against the door to his room as he slid the key card into the lock. When he heard the familiar click, he grabbed Payton by the waist and pulled her into the room with him.

Okay, fine—at check-in, when she wasn’t paying attention, he had asked to be upgraded to an oceanfront suite. He’d been feeling a little . . . optimistic.

And Payton didn’t exactly look displeased with his decision. Still holding his hand, she walked around the room, checking out the oversized living room area, the separate master bedroom, the marble bathroom with a solid stone ocean-facing soaking tub, and, of course, the private balcony with a direct view of the Atlantic.

“You approve?” J.D. asked when she finished her perusal of the room.

Payton smiled. “Do I even want to know how much this cost you?”

In truth, he’d spent over a grand out of his own pocket for the upgrade. He debated what was better: to let her think this was all part of his so-called “extravagant lifestyle,” or to tell her the truth. He decided to go with the truth. So far that evening, saying exactly what was on his mind had been paying off in spades.

“It’s for you,” he told her.

Payton seemed momentarily surprised by this. Then she pulled in close and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“It’s perfect.”

She kissed him. Before J.D. knew it, they had made their way into the bedroom. The hotel housekeeping staff had already turned down the bed and the lights were low and ambient. He peered into Payton’s eyes and saw that familiar mix of daring and mischief. Seeing how the whole being-direct thing was working for him—

“Take off your dress,” he said.

Payton gave him an “Oh, really?” look, and J.D. could tell that part of her wanted to get sassy again. But he could also tell that the other part of her really, really liked it.

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Easy enough. You already ripped the zipper in the elevator.” With her shrug and the simple tug of one strap, the dress fell to the floor.

Interesting.

And here he’d thought she looked amazing in the dress.

J.D.’s eyes traveled from (black lacy) top to (racy thong) bottom. And she still wore her high heels.

This was going to be one long f**king night.

Gesturing to the black lace, J.D. gave Payton an “Oh, really?” look of his own. “It looks like somebody else was being a little presumptuous, too. Unless you wear that to all your client dinners?”

With a slight kick of her leg, Payton nudged the dress out of her way. She wrapped her arms around J.D., one hand at the back of his head, and threaded her fingers through his hair. She looked up at him and repeated his earlier words.

“It’s for you,” she said softly.

J.D. looked deep into those dark blue eyes.

This girl drove him absolutely crazy.

With a grin, he scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed.

Because tonight, she was his.

FOR NEARLY AN hour they teased one another, until Payton finally caved and grabbed a condom off the nightstand.

J.D. hooked one of her legs around his waist and grabbed her hand. “Put it on me,” he whispered, nearly a groan.

So she did. Then she told him she needed to quickly check for polo ponies.

When J.D. threw her other leg around his waist and pinned her arms over her head, Payton decided to reschedule the pony-check for another time.

As he moved over her, J.D. told her to open her eyes and look at him, and she thought the moment couldn’t get any better.

Then he held her face between his hands and whispered her name, and she knew it just did.

AFTERWARD, J.D. COLLAPSED on top of Payton, still tangled between her legs, his face buried in her neck as he tried to catch his breath.

His thoughts.

Deep, too.

Just.

Had.

Sex.

Sleepy.

He felt Payton suddenly stir beneath him and he perked up his head, instantly alert.

Ooh—again?

SOMETIME AFTER ROUND Two, they decided to open the drapes and the sliding glass doors so that they could hear the waves. They lay facing each other in the moonlight. As J.D.’s fingers traced lazy arcs along her hip, Payton couldn’t help but grin.

“What?” He peered down at her while propped up on one elbow.

“Nothing,” Payton said. “Just that . . . it’s you.”

J.D. bent his head to kiss her shoulder, seeming to understand exactly what she meant. “I know. We’ve said a lot of things to each other over these past eight years.”

“I think we should’ve been doing this a long time ago.”

J.D. laughed. “You hated me up until about a week ago, remember?”

Payton ran her hand along J.D.’s forearm, his shoulder, across the firm muscles of his chest. Had she really ever hated him? Funny, because now she couldn’t keep her hands off him. She’d guessed that J.D. was in good shape because anyone who looked that great in a suit had to be in good shape, but . . . wow. There’d been a moment during Round Two when he’d lifted her off him and flipped her over onto her stomach like it was nothing. Et cetera.

A nagging question in the back of Payton’s mind was whether J.D. was this incredible with the other women he’d slept with. She hated to think that what was undoubtedly the best sex of her life was just an average run-of-the-mill romp in the sack for him.