“Right,” he said. “My favorite meal of the day.”
8
JOEY CUPPED THE side of his face to deepen the kiss. He moved forward, rolling her onto her back.
“So we’re really doing this?” she asked as he rubbed her breasts over her shirt. “We’re going to sleep together until I go back to Hawaii?”
“I would like that.”
He said it so simply, those four words. I would like that. But she heard more than the words in his tone. She heard longing, a lovely sound. He wanted her. How nice of him. No denying she wanted him, too. How could she not? She had eyes to see his handsome face and ears to hear the warm masculine timbre of his voice when he spoke. She had a nose to smell the clean scent of his boring guy soap and hands to feel the strength of his body as she touched him and held him. And she had lips and a tongue to taste him. Delicious, yes. That was the word for him. She’d be a glutton in the next weeks, trying to get her fill of him before leaving. And yes, it would hurt when she went back to Hawaii but it would be a better pain because it was an honest pain. They’d talked about it, consented to it, agreed to take on the pain together. And it was a pain she’d chosen, not the kind of pain Ben had forced on her with his lies. A good pain. The sort of pain one earns and feels a little proud of. She’d have sex with this beautiful man until she left, and in compensation for the pain of leaving him, she would take two weeks of beautiful memories with her of a man who helped her trade a bad pain for a good pain.
Chris slipped a hand under her shirt and she arched her back to let him unhook her bra. As soon as he did he pushed her shirt and bra up together and licked her nipples one at a time. They hardened against his hot tongue and inside his mouth. She breathed heavily but softly, aware that people might be in the rooms on either side. Hammering and drilling were normal sounds to come from a room under construction, not moaning and groaning. As Chris sucked her breasts, she went to work on his buttons, opening them quickly, eager to undress him.
When she was a kid, she’d had romantic fantasies about this hotel. How could she not with all the cute teenage snowboarders running around the place and the older men in their twenties and thirties with their skis and their beautiful girlfriends in designer ski gear. She’d wanted to be one of those girlfriends in her white boots and white snow pants, white jacket and blond hair in perfect twin braids peaking out from under a white hat. They’d come into the lodge together, rosy cheeked from exertion, laughing and sweaty, looking like the very picture of luxurious adulthood. And those couples got to stay in the big rooms at Timber Ridge, the ones with king-size beds and stone fireplaces with turn-down service and bottles of wine and no adult supervision because they were adults and could do anything they wanted alone in hotel rooms.
Even sex.
Joey ached to be an adult back in high school, ached to be one of those beautiful pampered girlfriends. The thought of getting a hotel room in a ski lodge with a hot guy and being old enough that no one could tell them what to do in that hotel room had been the number-one dream of her entire freshman year of high school. And now it was coming true.
If only for a couple weeks.
If only.
Nothing to do but enjoy it while it lasted.
In her teenage fantasies, she hadn’t imagined sleeping with the guy who actually worked at the hotel but her teenage fantasies were pretty vague on where the money for the expensive room came from. A real man with gainful employment was much sexier than a fantasy dude who might be hiding massive credit card debt.
Joey ran her fingers through Chris’s hair as he kissed her nipples. She laughed as a chunk of fireplace mortar came out in her hand.
“What?” He raised his head to meet her eyes.
“I found something.” She held out the chunk. He shook his head and dust flew off his hair.
“I should take a shower.”
“I like how dirty you are.”
He raised his eyebrow.
“Do you?”
“Very much so.”
“You know, I usually don’t do what I did last night,” he said, and for a second he looked almost embarrassed, adorably embarrassed.
“Do what? Have great sex?”
“No, I do that whenever I can. But...I was a little more real with you than I usually am the first time I sleep with somebody.”
“You mean like when you held me down by my wrists and you whipped your cock out and told me to suck it and all that?”
“That’s kind of what I mean, yeah. I usually hold off on that for a while. If it was too much I can tone it down.”
“Why didn’t you hold off on it with me?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just felt comfortable with you. But if it made you uncomfortable—”
“It didn’t.”