Page 57 of Wrecked By You

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Page 57 of Wrecked By You

She laughed once more. I’d come to relish her laughs, almost as if each one she shared with me shored up a damaged piece of my soul while simultaneously putting another crack in the walls I’d built. She was dangerous, yet instead of running away, I craved to nestle closer, to steal her innate goodness and keep it for my own selfish needs.

The valet strode forward as I pulled up outside the hotel. He opened Ella’s door and held out a hand to guide her. I joined them, took her hand, and gave him my keys.

“Ready?” I posed the question as a way of giving her a final exit strategy.

“So ready,” she whispered.

Tingles fired through my veins, and prickles crept over my skin as I struggled to control the Neanderthal inside me that yearned to be inside her right fucking now.

Nichole was serving another guest, but as she saw me approach, she set a key card on the desk without breaking her attention away from the customer. I picked it up and led Ella over to the elevators. The doors closed with just the two of us inside, and the intimacy of the moment enveloped me. My dick hardened, and my fingers itched to explore her firm, round tits, her enticing curves, her lips, her soft skin.

She shuffled from her left foot to her right and gazed up at me from beneath her lashes. I ran my teeth over my bottom lip.

“I’m not touching you here.”

She blinked. “Why not?”

“Because if I do, I won’t stop.”

Her pink tongue darted to dampen her lips.

Fuck. She’s trying to kill me.

“Maybe you don’t have to stop.” The elevator dinged. Ella smirked. “Saved by the bell.”

I led her through the welcome foyer and into the penthouse. She took in the opulent surroundings and the view of downtown Los Angeles through the floor-to-ceiling windows, lights sparkling in the dusk.

“This is gorgeous.”

“You’re gorgeous.” I pulled her to me, encircling her waist as I lowered my head to kiss her. A raft of feelings coursed through me at her sigh, the way her body fused with mine, the hitch in her breath as I breached her lips with my tongue.

And with those feelings came fear. I could not,would not,allow myself to get in too deep. I’d told her I didn’t do relationships, yet she’d come here with me anyway. To fuck. That was all. Not to have a deep and meaningful conversation or to share the painful shit of our pasts. We were here to scratch an itch that had developed between us over these past few weeks.

I unfastened her jeans, pushing them and her panties past her knees. My fingers sought her heat, a groan rumbling through my chest as I slid two inside her.

“So wet, so ready,” I murmured, my lips forging a path from her ear to the slope of her shoulder. I strummed her clit, and she responded beautifully, clenching around my fingers.

“God, yes,” she gasped. “Christ, I’m there. I’m already fucking there.” A long groan spilled from her lips and she thrust her hands into my hair, tugging on the roots as she orgasmed less than twenty seconds after I’d first touched her.

I held back a smile that threatened. “You needed that.”

Drowsy eyes found mine, swimming with satisfaction. “You have no idea.”

Her honesty forced a chuckle from me, the sound alien, yet it felt appropriate. No, not appropriate. It felt right. I slipped my hands around her waist and kissed her, fusing her body to mine. And then a thought hit me from left field. Fuck!

“I don’t have a condom.”

Kingcaid hotels weren’t in the business of renting rooms by the hour, so boxes of condoms weren’t part of the complimentary toiletries we provided to our guests. And as I rarely had sex, carrying around a spare rubber in my wallet wasn’t something I thought about. I planned my liaisons. This wasn’t planned.

“I’m on birth control.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She reached for the button on my pants. I spun her around and bent her over the couch, freeing myself in seconds.

“Not like this.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I want to see you, to touch you.”

A coldness hit my core. This was the point where she walked out. I braced myself.




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