Beautiful Bastard(53)

“Will you quit running from me?” I followed her, my voice echoing in the small space. “If this is about that woman downstairs—”

She looked impossibly more furious at my words and took a step toward me. “Don’t you dare go there. I have never acted like a jealous girlfriend.” She shook her head in disgust before turning to the counter and rummaging through her purse.

I stared at her she grew more and more frustrated. What else could this be about? I was completely bewildered. Her anger usually had me slammed against something and half naked by now. Here, she seemed genuinely upset. “You think I would be interested in any random woman who puts her room key in my hand? What the hell kind of man do you think I am?”

She slammed a brush on the counter, looking up at me furiously. “Are you serious right now? I know you’ve done this before. Just sex, no strings attached—I’m sure you get room keys all the time.”

I started to reply, because in all honesty I had been in relationships that were strictly about the sex, but this thing with Chloe hadn’t been just sex for a while now.

But she cut me off. “I’ve never done anything close to this and I don’t know how to navigate it anymore,” she said, her voice getting louder with each word. “But when I’m with you, it’s like nothing else matters. This . . . this thing,” she continued, gesturing between us, “this isn’t me! It’s like I turn into a different person when I’m with you, and I hate it. I can’t do it, Bennett. I don’t like who I’m becoming. I work hard. I care about my job. I’m smart. None of that would matter if people knew what was happening between us. Go find someone else.”

“I already told you, I haven’t been with anyone since we started this.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t take a room key if it’s put in your hand. What would you have done if I hadn’t been there?”

Without hesitation, I said, “Handed it back.”

But she just laughed, clearly disbelieving. “Look. This whole thing exhausts me right now. I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

It was nearly impossible to imagine walking away from her and leaving this unresolved, but she’d already moved away and was turning on the shower. Just as I reached the door to the hall, I glanced back to where she stood, already surrounded by steam, watching me leave. And f*ck if she didn’t look as conflicted as I felt.

Without thinking I crossed the room, gripped her face between my hands, and pulled her to me. When our lips met, she made a strangled sound of surrender, immediately digging her hands into my hair. I kissed her harder, claiming her sounds as my own, making her lips mine, her taste all mine.

“Let’s call a truce for one night,” I said, pressing three small kisses on her lips, one on each side and a lingering one in the middle, in the heart of her mouth “Give me all of you for one night, no holding back. Please, Chloe, I’ll leave you alone after that but I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks and . . . I just need tonight.”

She stared at me for several painful beats, clearly struggling. And then, with a quiet, pleading sound, she reached up and pulled me to her, standing on her toes to get as close as she could.

My lips were rough and unyielding but she didn’t move away, pressing her curves into me. I was lost to everything but her. We bumped into a wall, the counter, the shower door, shifting and pulling in our desperation. The room was completely filled with steam now, and nothing seemed real. I could smell, taste, and feel her, but none of it was enough.

Our kisses grew deeper, our touches wilder. I grabbed her ass, her thighs, slid my hands up and over her breasts, needing every part of her in my palms simultaneously. She pushed me back against the wall and a rush of warmth cascaded across my shoulder and down my chest, bringing me out of my haze. With our clothes still on, we had backed into the shower. We were getting soaked.

We didn’t care.

Her hands roamed my body frantically, yanking my shirt from my pants. With shaky hands she unbuttoned it, tearing off some buttons in her haste before sliding the wet fabric from my shoulders and tossing it outside the shower door.

The wet silk of her dress clung to her, accentuating every curve. I traced the fabric along her breasts, feeling her tight nipples underneath. She moaned and brought her hand to rest on mine, guiding my movements.

“Tell me what you want.” My voice was rough with need. “Tell me the things you want me to do to you.”