Turn Over

“What do you think you left out?” I pulled her into the shadows of the courtyard. As much as I wanted to get to the suite, my need for her was strong now. I cradled her face between my hands.

“I left out the charming part. And the gentleman part. And then there’s the thoughtful part. I need to rewrite the whole thing. There’s more to you than demolition.”

I smirked. “I don’t think I want people to know that. You’re going to make me sound like a philanthropist or something awful.”

I could smell her perfume when the wind picked up her hair. “Afraid your competitors will think that’s weak?”

She was driving me wild. Stalling, talking, pressing her hands against my chest, then backing inches away.

We were completely covered in the darkness. The fading sounds of the Riverwalk behind us. “No.” I buried my head in the curve of her neck, blistering rough kisses along her throat. “I take what I want.”

She kicked her head back, and a soft moan slipped through her lips. My hand was under her skirt, rubbing between her legs, feeling the heat from the motion.

“You have to stop,” she breathed.

“Why? No one can see us.” I moved the lace fabric out of my way. My fingers sank into her, and she groaned.

She panted harder as I pushed against her. I kissed her, knowing things were getting out of control.

“Please, Mason.”

I moved my hands reluctant to stop, when suddenly her hand landed on mine.

“That’s not what I meant,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to stop.”

My chest tightened. I felt her fingers twine between mine as she moved my hand where she wanted it under the cover of her dress. I nestled my nose in the curve of her neck,

listening to her breathing change over to quick pants. She moaned my name as my fingers moved faster, spreading wider, finding ways to take her to the edge. Her hands locked around my neck and a long moan escaped her lips, then she was still.

She pressed her forehead against mine. I felt the dewy perspiration of her skin.

I helped straightened her skirt. We both took a breath, before walking into the lobby.

As we rode the elevator to the suite, my hand rested on her lower back. I could feel the heat of her skin through the sundress. I had no intention of her wearing it past the living room.

She stood next to me, while I grabbed the key card from my wallet. The tequila making both of us feel relaxed and eager. Her fingers ran along my arm, I couldn’t get the door opened fast enough.

I pushed on it, drawing her with me into the dark room. My hands ran through her hair. Her mouth was on mine. Hot and fierce. One of my hands trailed along her shoulder, down her chest, cupping her breast. I squeezed until I heard her groan. Her tongue lashed wildly.

As I reached for the zipper on the dress, her phone began to ring. She paused for a second, but ignored it.

“Probably a pocket dial or something,” she breathed. Her fingers began to work the buttons on my shirt.

The ringing started again, and her eyes flashed to mine. “Sorry, I better check it.”

“No problem.” I sat on the couch, while she dug through her purse looking for the phone.

Before I knew what was happening, she answered, walked into the bedroom, and closed the door.

I waited. A few minutes passed, and I walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of water from one of the bottles on the counter. The hotel had delivered a fully stocked basket of snacks and drinks. I could hear her voice, muffled by the door. I sat the empty glass on the bar and stood in front of the door. She was still talking.

I took a pack of cookies and sat on the couch, flipping on the TV. It was instinct. I always searched for the business channel. I didn’t register the stock report when the numbers scrolled across the bottom of the screen, my attention was on the bedroom door.

This was damn ridiculous. We had been in the middle of something I didn’t think needed to be interrupted. I turned off the TV and walked to the bedroom.

“Sydney?” I tapped on the door. When she didn’t answer, I opened it. “Syd?”

She was sitting in the center of the bed, her legs pulled up to her chest, the dress crumpled at her hips. The phone was still in her hand.