The door chimes and slides open, and I have to force myself to pull my lips from her soft skin. With her hand clasped tightly in mine, we make our way off the elevator and down the hall to our room. It takes me three tries to get the keycard in the door. Not because I’m nervous; it’s because I want her with an intensity that makes my hands shake as they ache to touch her.
Finally, the light turns green, and I push open the door, allowing Layla to walk in before me. Dropping the key card to the floor, I pull her into my arms and kiss her hard. Her taste, a mixture of champagne and Layla, explodes on my tongue. I can’t get enough of her. Can’t seem to get her close enough.
“I need you out of this dress,” I say, bunching it up around her waist.
“Don’t rip it,” she says, reading my mood expertly.
Stepping away from her, I place my hands on the back of my head. My chest is heaving as I struggle to pull air into my lungs. “I need you naked, baby. I know you love the dress. I can buy you a new one.” I reach for her.
She jumps back out of my grasp. “No. I love this dress. You’re just going to have to wait.”
I grip my cock that’s straining against the zipper of this monkey suit I’m wearing. “I’m dripping with need for you, Layla. I can’t wait.” My words are strained as I try to reach for her, but she’s a tiny thing and fast as she again evades me.
My eyes are glued to her as she turns her back to me. “Can you unzip me?”
I step close, my hands falling to her back as I slowly pull the zipper down. She steps away before I can rip the offending piece of fabric from her body. “I want you,” I tell her.
“I want you too, but I love this dress.” I watch as she carefully slides the fabric over her shoulder and shimmies her hips, letting it slide to the floor. When she bends over to pick it up, her tits look as though they are about to fall out of the strapless bra she’s wearing, and her ass in that thong… I want to bite it.
“What would your mom say if she knew you tore my dress and why?”
“I don’t give a fuck, and can we not talk about my mom right now?”
Soft laughter fills the room as she turns to face me. “I need you naked, Owen,” she says, her hands on her hips.
“Gladly.” I begin to rip off my clothes—jacket, tie, shirt, with my buttons flying across the room. Next, I fumble with my belt as I unclasp it. I make sure to latch on to the waistband of my boxer briefs and remove them with my pants. Letting it all fall to the floor. “You’re next,” I tell her, gripping my cock. I watch in fascination as she walks to the other side of the room, pulling a chair from the small dining table in the corner. She carries it with her, setting it in front of me.
“This is for you.”
“What am I supposed to do with that?” I ask, staring at the chair.
“Sit.”
“Babe, we can talk later. I need you.” I look down at my hard cock gripped in the palm of my hand.
“Sit, please,” she says, batting those baby blues at me. I can’t say no to her, so I sit in the chair. With slow, gradual steps, she comes toward me, stepping between my legs. My hands grip her hips, any excuse to touch her. “I like this,” she says softly, running her hands over my newly trimmed beard. “I like the way it feels against my bare skin.”
Fuck. Is she trying to kill me? “Layla,” I croak.
With a hand on either side of my face, she bends so that our mouths are barely a breath apart. “I love you, Owen Riggins.” Her lips press to mine, and I try to deepen the kiss, but my girl has other plans as she pulls out of my hold, taking a step back.
She stands just out of reach, and I want to go to her, toss her on the bed and have my wicked way with her, but something tells me that she needs this. That she needs to feel in control, and we both know Layla holds all the control, along with every single piece of me. The breath whooshes from my lungs when she reaches behind her and unclasps her strapless bra, letting the tiny scrap of material fall to the floor.
I keep my mouth shut and my hands fisted at my sides as she slides an index finger on either side of the waistband of her thong, and shimmies her hips yet again, letting it fall to her feet.