She bit her lip and dipped her chin to her chest, lowering her gaze to the floor.
“Natalie.” He closed the space between them and placed his hands on her arms. “Look at me.”
She tensed beneath his grip. But this time, she listened. Her brown eyes glanced at him from under her long lashes. And he knew he had about five seconds before she made the call—fight or flight. Right now, neither worked in his favor.
“There’s no reason you can’t be happy, too,” he said, keeping his tone soft and gentle, as if she were a stray kitten that simply needed a little love and a good home.
She placed her hands on his chest and damn near shocked the hell out of him. Flight—ten to one he’d thought she’d race for her room. But instead she ran her hands over his shoulder and up to his jaw.
“Is that your new tactic?” She touched the sides of his face as if she enjoyed the feel of his stubble scratching her palms. “Planning to win by promising me—”
“No,” he said firmly.
“Because it might work.” She inhaled and appeared surprised she’d let those words escape. But then, she stepped closer, pressing her body flush against his. “Right now, I want to get lost in you.”
“Natalie.” The way he said her name—shit, having the woman of his dreams touch him hadn’t damaged his hearing. He knew that when he said her name it sounded a helluva lot like I want you, not Let’s talk.
“I feel safe with you, Jack,” she said. “Not because you’re a SEAL. But because you’re you.”
He sighed. And shit, he tried to mask his Oh darlin’ that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me reaction by reaching for her. He wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her against him.
He knew she felt safe with him because she knew he was temporary. That whatever happened between them now, it would go no further. He’d never before been so happy yet so crushed to know who he was and what he could—and couldn’t—offer a woman.
“You are safe,” he promised.
Her gaze dropped to his lips. “I’d planned to find someone else,” she said. “In Vegas. For sex. To fight this…this thing between us. To fight everything.”
What the fuck?
“That’s not going to happen.” He rocked his hips into her, letting her feel how damn hard he was for her. He was seconds away from abandoning his plans to freaking talk to her and instead push her up against a wall. He wanted to take her right here, by the damn elevator bank. But he knew security cameras monitored this hallway. And the thought of anyone else seeing her face as she came for him? Not a chance. He’d get them to her damn room.
“I haven’t had sex in a long time,” she said. “And I thought that if I did, with someone else…”
He growled and took a step backward. He maintained a strong hold on her as he steered them away from the elevators and down the hall.
“But for some stupid reason, I don’t want someone else,” she said, allowing him to lead their dance down the empty hall. “I want your cock—”
Yeah, talking would have to wait until he gave Natalie every damn thing her heart desired.
“Your baby-oil-free muscles—”
“What?” He stopped ten feet from her bedroom door. Was Vegas messing with her fantasies?
“Your mouth.” She rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Not a gentle brush of the lips, but a demanding, let’s-get-naked kiss. Her fingers moved through his hair, holding his head tight. And he kissed her right back, determined to erase any lingering thoughts of her imaginary, baby-oil-covered lover.
His tongue tangled with hers, teasing, taunting, and asking for more. She pressed up against him, forcing him back, one step after an
other, until—shit, they bumped into a wall.
But the woman on fire in his arms, her lips still moving over his, didn’t care. She straddled his thigh and began to rock her hips. His hands traveled down from her hips to the smooth, bare skin of her thighs. And that was all the confirmation he needed. Her dress was too damn close to decorating her waist. As much as he wanted to hear her come, they weren’t doing this here.
In the hall.
On camera.
“Your room key,” he demanded, breaking the kiss. He tried to smooth her skirt down over her legs, but she’d spread them too far. And she refused to stop riding his leg.
“In my pocket,” she said, breathing heavy.