Without a Hitch(23)

“Jacob,” I acknowledge tersely.

“What are you doing in my room?” he slurs.

Oh, wonderful. He’s drunk too.

“Mr. Frye sent me up here to make sure you both stay in your room for the rest of the night. If he sees you anywhere near the wedding, you won’t have a job when you return home. Is that clear?”

“Whatever,” he hisses. As he stalks past me, he nudges my shoulder just enough with his to make me wobble on my heels.

Blaine has him pinned to the wall a second later. “Touch her again, and it will be the last thing you do.”

Recognition and possibly fear are the only expressions I can read on Jacob’s reddening face when he finally focuses on Blaine. “Mr.—Mr.” He makes a gurgling sound in the back of his throat and Blaine eases his grip slightly. “Blaine, I’m s-sorry. I…”

“Shut up, you fucking cack. Go to bed. And don’t ever let me catch you treating a lady like that again. You won’t like the consequences. Got it?”

Jacob nods frantically and stumbles when Blaine lets him go. He doesn’t look back as he enters the bedroom and closes the door.

I stand slack-jawed as Blaine turns toward me, a predatory smile replacing his pissed-off expression. “Am I correct in guessing you’re off duty now?”

I nod, unblinking, and he takes my hand in his. “I want to kiss you, Pepper. But not in this jackhole’s room, so you have three options. One, you can say no, and I’ll walk away, no hard feelings.

Two, we’ll go back to the reception, and I’ll kiss the living hell out of you with witnesses. Or three, you can come to my room, and I’ll kiss you in private. Everywhere.”

“Holy geez!”

His grin is blinding. “I’m not a patient person, Pepper. What’s your choice?”

I mean, is there really a choice here? My epic dry spell has had me in a funk for months. This man seems to actually see me. Wants me. And my body is doing the tango, propelling me forward.

“P-P-Private.” It’s the best I can manage as my heart thunders in my chest and blood rushes in my ears, making me dizzy.

Holy geez. Holy geez! I’m about to have a one-night stand with Sexy McSexerson.

Blaine grins wickedly. Oh, no. Did I say that out loud? I don’t have time to ponder because he’s dragging me out of the room, down the hall, into the elevator, and the second the doors close, his lips cover mine. His tongue doesn’t ask for entry. It demands it.

Oh, Mylanta. If he can kiss like this, I know his sex will destroy me. And I’m here for it. I do a mental inventory of my panties. It’s quick because I couldn’t wear any with this dress, and luckily, I got waxed right before this trip.

Hip hip hooray, my pussy’s here to play! It’s the last coherent thought I have because Blaine, not sure of his last name, takes full control of my body, and I happily go along for the ride.





C HAPTE R 8

LOCHLAN

P ossessive. That’s the only word to describe what I’m feeling as I crash through my hotel room door with my hands gliding over every inch of her I can reach.

My Pepper.

Truthfully, I’m not sure how to process these uncontrollable feelings, so I don’t. Instead, I focus on how good she feels under my outstretched palm. And how her body molds into mine as I press her against the wall. And I most definitely pay attention to how she moans when my thumbs caress her nipples.

Tonight is about carnal desires and nothing more. End of story.

I take Pepper’s hands in one of mine and hold them above her head. Her eyes sparkle with anticipation, and knowing she wants this as badly as I do has my cock begging for release.

“Let’s see how well you listen, shall we? Keep your hands here and don’t move them, or I’ll stop.”

“Not even if I want to do this?” The little minx wiggles her wrist free to fist my hard-on through my trousers.

“Not until I say so,” I growl. It’s authoritative. It’s a command, a demand, and everything in between, but she just grins and squeezes harder.

Fuck me. My little Pepper is more than a spitfire. She’s a seductress. A siren. A goddess that could bring me to my knees. She unzips me and slips a hand inside to rub her thumb around my crown.

“You don’t listen very well,” I groan through clenched teeth.

“I never have. You don’t seriously expect me to start now, do you?” she asks as she slowly lowers herself to her knees. The image of her like this will be my fantasy for years to come.

“I told you to keep your hands above your head.” Either I’m losing control, or she’s taking it. I’m not even sure I care.

She undoes my trousers and drops them to the floor with quick but graceful movements. If the lack of undergarments shocks her, she doesn’t show it. My painfully hard dick dances before her, and she licks her lips.

“Yes, sir.” She looks up at me through long lashes, and two things happen at once. She crosses her wrists, lifting them to my chest, and her lips close over my raging erection. Pure. Fucking. Ecstasy.

I’m so hard that the throbbing vein on my shaft's underside aches.

Then she licks it better.

Holy Christ.

My fingers close around her delicate wrists. I push them back against the wall, bowing her body toward me. It’s a delicious sight. Her nipples pebble behind the thin silk of her dress, and I long to have them between my teeth.