Muffin Top

He parked Scarlett in one of the few available spots, cut the engine, and undid his seatbelt. Then, he leaned across and untied the sash around Lucy’s eyes. “We’re here.”

She blinked a few times, then looked around. Two beats after her gaze found the Laughlin Hotel, she turned to him a little slack-jawed with surprise and her eyes alight with glee.

“How in the world did you get a room here?” she asked, letting out a little mewl of approval. “They are booked for years in advance.”

Yep, that was exactly the reaction he was hoping for. Calling in his chips with his sister had been worth it.

“Felicia,” he said and got out of the car.

Lucy was out of Scarlett before he could make it around to open her door. “More, please.”

Taking her hand in his, he walked with her around to the trunk, where he’d stored an overnight bag he’d sweet-talked her into packing by saying they might want to change into something more comfortable after the dance for a trip back out to the lake.

“Well, her fiancé’s family has enough money and pull to help me get in at the last minute.” He popped the trunk and grabbed both of their bags before closing it. “Felicia did owe me a favor, and I called it in.”

“For what?” Lucy asked as they headed toward the front door. “Saving that crazy cat of hers from a tree?”

“Hell no. If Honeypot got stuck, I’d leave the feral animal there.” Okay, he wouldn’t, but Felicia did have one of the meanest cats ever to cat. “I helped her pick out a dress to wear.”

She pulled him to a stop outside of the hotel’s massive oak doors. “You were your sister’s wingwoman?”

Out of habit, he looked around to make sure no one overheard that little bit. “If you ever tell, I’ll deny it.”

She raised herself up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing that luscious mouth of hers millimeters within kissing distance. If he hadn’t been holding both of their overnight bags, he would have had his hands on that round ass of hers and tugged her close so he could feel every inch of her.

Just a little taste, that’s all he wanted—at least until he got her up into that room.

“Like everyone doesn’t already know you’re a giant softie,” Lucy said.

“Not all the time.”

She lowered one arm and brought it between them and let her fingers graze over his dick. “And thank God for that.”

It might have just killed him a little, but he managed to hold onto his control and not drag Lucy to the closest horizontal surface. Instead, they walked into the opulent hotel reception area. All Frankie had to do at check-in was show his driver’s license and leave a credit card number for incidentals—and it still took too long. He needed to get Lucy into that room.

They couldn’t get to the elevator fast enough for him, but as soon as the doors slid shut he dropped the bags and had her pressed against the wall. Four floors wasn’t enough time to do much, but he still managed to get his hands under her skirt, skating up the outside of her thighs and over her full hips as he took her mouth, hard and with more than a little bit of a desperate edge.

Her nimble fingers were starting to work his suit pants button free when the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal a small foyer with two doors at the opposite end.

How he managed to tear his mouth away from hers before the door closed on them again, he had no fucking clue. All he knew was one moment he was inches away from touching the softest, wettest piece of heaven, and the next he had Lucy in his arms, holding the suitcases awkwardly in one hand, and was striding toward that lone door—which was the next obstacle to getting her naked.

Like an asshole, he’d put the room key in his suit pocket. A great plan so both hands would be free to touch her in the elevator, and a really shitty one when he wanted to keep her body plastered to his and open the door at the same time.

“If you don’t put me down so you can open that door, take me inside, and fuck me until I’m hoarse, I’m never speaking to you again.”

That was his Lucy. There wasn’t another woman out there like her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He set her down, got the key out, slid it across the black key reader, and turned the knob of the door that wouldn’t unlock. Fuck me. He swiped again. Nothing. Just a little red blinky light. Meanwhile, Lucy had reached up under her skirt and slipped off her panties. Hell. Just looking at the black satin ball in her hand squeezed the air out of his lungs.

She watched him, amusement curling the corners of that kissable mouth of hers upward as she reached behind her back and did some pinch-and-snap move that was followed up with her sliding the straps of her bra down her arms and somehow managing to pull it off without ever removing her dress. His gaze was drawn like a magnet to her hard nipples pressing against the soft knit of her red dress. He’d seen those nipples, knew what they looked like, with the large peach areolas framing them. That knowledge, without being able to actually see them or touch them, was making his brain a little foggy. So he swiped the key again, as if by magic it would work.