Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(88)

The courage. The kind from a bottle. I had ordered a small decanter and placed it on the table as well. I was going to need a few shots if I ever had a prayer of pulling this off. Seduction wasn't my forte. But he deserved it.

I usually felt so awkward and clumsy during sex. Well. Not with Casey.

With him I felt worshiped and desired. He acted like he craved me in the way he moaned from kissing my neck sometimes. It made me feel special. Made me feel sexy and wanton.

I arranged the extra pillows and blankets, that I'd ordered up, and they looked so inviting there on the floor in the center of the room.

I'd given it some thought on my plane ride here this morning. I wanted the night to be unforgettable. It was already unforgivable.

I downed two shots. Back to back. The cognac tasted sweet and bold. The taste lingered on my tongue.

I left the robe on. I wanted him to open me like an expensive gift. I wanted to watch his eyes up close when he saw what I was hiding underneath.

I'd told him to be there at eight and it was five to when he knocked. I'd left him a key—as was customary for us at hotels then—knowing he would use it if I didn't answer.

I rose to my feet, with an extra four inches added from the Brian Atwood heels which Reggie bought me for Christmas. How was I to know they’d come in so handy when I'd sent him a joking picture in a text message version of a fairy-tale princess's Christmas list?

As I stood there preparing myself, my heartbeat didn't exactly feel fast; it just felt strong. A powerful pulsing that reverberated throughout my whole body.

The door handle clicked.

I'd turned the lights out, only a few recessed lights over the bar area and the fireplace remained lighting the room. It was tastefully amber and dim. The backlighting behind his body from the bright hallway, when he opened the door, gave me a chill.

He wore a perfectly tailored suit and looked so masculine in profile. It fit to his tight body in magical ways. His hair was tamed back with that miracle product he used to make it look controlled, and in the light, I could see the front was beginning its rebellion, loosening and falling forward more than it should.

He looked like a king. King Casey.

He closed the door gently and pocketed his hand into his slacks making the fabric taught over his already visible bulge.

I licked my lips.

I wanted another shot, but I didn't dare move.

His blue eyes glittered from the lick of the flames behind me.

The song changed. I recognized it within the first few chords. The single guitar. The arpeggio. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room.

I swallowed. Eyeing him standing there, looking at me, the beautiful confusion of it all made my mouth water.

His eyes wandered over me like a search light, both warning and guiding my body home.

He walked toward me and I started forward to meet him halfway, but he held a hand up and stopped where he was when we were still feet apart.

“You look like my wildest dream.” His perfect hand still hung in the air. “Let me look you at you little more. This memory has to last me long time, honeybee.” He pandered his time. I watched him examine every detail of me. I thought I'd feel self-conscious, but the opposite happened.

I was proud, and having him take the time to look at every one of the things I'd done to get his attention felt so gratifying. I had prayed that at least one would capture his interest.

The corners of his lips quirked when his eyes shifted focus down toward my garter clips. He faked coolness by biting his bottom lip, but he didn't fool me.

Finally, he said, “Come here.”

My right leg, my left leg and I, we all went to him together. My entire body working on its own. It was so easy.

“Wait, one more thing,” he interjected. Then did the international sign for spin-it-a-around, his smile bleeding through every feature on his face. His eyes looked like neon in the darkness.

I did a slow twirl, looking over my shoulder on my way back around. I batted my eyes to get a reaction.

“You look like the definition of temptation.” His eyes squinted and he pantomimed a come-here head nod. God, his claws were sunk so deep into me. If I looked like temptation, he looked precisely capable of charming-the-pants-off the Queen of England.

With my shoes, the height brought my eyes to his lips, my favorite latitude on planet Earth.

He ran a hand over my hair and pushed it behind my shoulder. “I can almost taste you, you smell that good,” he said, hushed. “You did all of this for me?”