Something Real Page 17

“You don’t need to worry about me. But we both know that’s not what brought you to my hotel room in that dress.” I take a step closer, and she backs against the door. Our bodies are so close they’re almost touching.

She lifts her chin in defiance, but her gaze slips to my lips. She wants my kiss as much as I want to give it to her. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Are you sure about that? We want each other. That didn’t change just because you left.” Unable to resist anymore, I dip my head and press an open-mouthed kiss to her bare shoulder. Her skin is cool and smells like flowers. Christ. “Why’d you run away, Rowdy?”

“I . . . I didn’t run.”

“You ran away.”

“I took an opportunity.”

I trail my fingers down the side of her waist. “You were scared and you ran away. You’re only here now because my relationship with Sabrina makes it safe.”

“So you do have a relationship with her?” she asks quietly.

“I’m not interested in talking about her. I asked about you. Why you ran away before we had a chance. But fuck five months ago. Let’s talk about right now.” I find the hem of her skirt and take it into my fist. “Tell me what you want.”

“I . . . I want . . .” She shakes her head and ducks under my arm, escaping my touch.

I grab her wrist and spin her around, pressing her against the wall as I step close again. When I press my lips to her neck, she doesn’t try to escape again. Instead, her hands go to my waist and work their way up as she slowly unbuttons my shirt.

“Tell me you haven’t missed this,” I whisper against her ear.

Her lips part and her gaze dips to my mouth. “I can’t.”

“Tell me you want me to stop.”

“I can’t,” she repeats.

“You can’t stay?” I slide my hand under her skirt and she draws in a sharp breath. “Or you can’t tell me to stop?”

Her only answer is to release the final button on my shirt and to give a slight shift of her hips toward my hand. She pushes my shirt from my shoulders, and I let it drop. Then I inch up her thigh, reveling in the feel of her soft skin under my fingertips. She wraps a hand around my biceps and her nails bite into the back of my arm as I cup her between her legs.

“You’re already wet for me.” I brush my fingertips over the center of her panties then slip my fingers under the damp fabric and stroke her clit.

My ears fill with the sounds of her uneven breathing, and I close my eyes for a second—but only a second, because I don’t want to miss the pleasure on her face. She’s beautiful every minute of every day, but when she’s turned on, when I’m touching her . . .

She moans, a slight, desperate sound, one she was trying to hold back but couldn’t contain. My dick swells painfully in the confines of my pants as I imagine keeping her here and making her moan all night.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she says. But she holds me close. “God, that feels so good.”

I bury my face in her neck as I tug down her panties and let them drop to the floor. She smells so good my chest aches with it. When she widens her stance to step out of her panties, I slide my hand between her thighs and cup her bare sex. I know I’ve pushed her this far, but hell if I can find any remorse. “Fuck, Liz. I’m not going to be the good guy who walks away just because it’s the right thing to do. Not tonight. If this isn’t what you want, you have to tell me to stop.”

She rocks into my touch. “What if this is exactly what I want?”

Her hands fumble between our bodies until the button on my pants releases and they fall to the floor. She shoves my briefs down next, then wraps her hand around my aching cock.

I can’t wait. I’m blind with the need to be inside her.

Sliding my hands under her ass, I lift her up against the wall and slam into her in one long, hard motion.

She cries out, her nails digging into my back. “Yes,” she whimpers. “Yes, please.”

I soften my movements and slow my strokes. “Tell me what you want, Rowdy.” My chest is tight, like a too-full balloon under the pressure of a life full of mistakes. One more fuck-up, one more shitty decision, and I’m going to explode.

She opens her eyes and brings one hand to my face as I pump into her. “You,” she says. “I want you.”

There’s a knock at the door, and I still.

She squeezes tight around me. “Don’t stop.” My hips jerk, my orgasm coming too fast and too soon, and providing me with none of the relief I was looking for.

“Sam,” a female voice calls from the other side of the door. “Open the door. I forgot my key.”

* * *

Liz

He carefully withdraws and settles me to the ground. He drags a hand through his hair and turns his back to me as he takes jagged breaths.

What did we just do?

I push down my dress and grab my underwear from the floor. I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t satisfying. Just desperate and needy, and not in the good way.

Jesus.

He steps into his pants and zips them up.

The knocking stops and his phone rings.

Sam grimaces then nods toward the bathroom. “Could you go in there for a minute?”

I gape at him, but someone’s calling his name again so I go into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

Breathless and frazzled, I listen as Sam opens the door.

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