Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection 2)

The restaurant was set up with tables circling a dance floor. Couples glided over it as a big band played.

"It's fun, isn't it?"

We drank champagne, danced, and shared a lobster dinner. Lowell didn't trip once, so around midnight, we agreed to one last dance. Lowell had announced she was about to turn into a pumpkin if she didn't get to bed soon.

We swayed to the music, our bodies melded together on the dance floor. We'd been like this all day—pressed up against every inch of each other—and I wasn't sure how we would ever get back to normal. Whatever that was.

I tilted her chin up and leaned down to kiss her.

"Is there a photographer near us or something?" she asked, looking at me warily.

"Yes," I whispered. "Right behind you."

I leaned down and claimed her mouth, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her against me. My body told me how much I wanted her. Still, I didn't want to scare her away, and I wanted to do the right thing. So I pulled back.

"Why'd you do that?" she asked breathlessly.

"Because I thought I saw a photographer," I lied.

She shook her head. "No. Why'd you stop?" She leaned up and kissed me, making my heart race and my temples throb.

We stopped for a second, halted in the middle of the dance floor.

"You don't want me to stop?" I asked.

She shook her head, her eyes wide and urgent. "No. I don't."

We practically ran back to the hotel.

Lowell

I told myself, over and over, that I wasn't going to do it. But when he kissed me like that, and when he stopped—my body took over.

My body—the shameless sex-goddess.

This wasn't a good idea, but I no longer cared. With his mouth on me like that, I couldn't think straight. He pulled me against him in the car, and I clung to him, blocking out all rational thought.

Britta was waiting in the lobby when Kyle hustled me toward the elevator. We ignored her even when she raised her hand at us.

"I still have a message for you," she called.

"Text it to me," Kyle snapped.

He seemed completely single-minded as he rushed me to the elevator. No one else joined us, so he took the liberty of pinning me against the wall. He looked down at me intently.

"Do you want to do this?" His eyes were hooded. "Are you sure?"

I nodded bravely. "Yes."

That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. "Good." He claimed my mouth hungrily, his tongue searching for mine as he ran his hands down my torso.

I shivered against him then threw all my self-control out the window. Good riddance. I put my hands on his fine ass and crushed him against me. Finally feeling him, all of him, pressed against me felt so good.

He hoisted my legs up around his waist and carried me out of the elevator. Somehow he managed to swipe our room key, and we burst through the door of the suite, our lips still crushed together. Then he stopped, placing me gently on the floor and closing the door.

He stalked toward me, his eyes fiery. "You have to mean this. You have to want this as much as me. I can't do it otherwise."

I nodded, shaky and unable to say anything. I just knew that I wanted him—I wanted him so much that nothing else made sense.