“I saw you at the game,” he said between kisses.
“I wanted to watch you,” I said, breathless.
“You damn near cost me the game,” he growled, his hand sliding down the fabric of the jersey I’d purchased that morning. “Seeing you with my name on your back.” He crushed his mouth over mine, and I whimpered at the delightful sting with the kiss. “What are you trying to do to me?”
I nipped at his bottom lip, fisting his shirt to hold him against me. “Nothing,” I said. “I just want you.”
His eyes churned as he met my gaze, and he slid that hand lower, hooking it behind my knee and drawing my leg up and around his hip. I sighed at the contact, at what I could feel hard through his slacks.
“Did you have plans?” I whispered, our mouths only a breath away. “I could buy you dinner as a thank you for rocking the Silhouette shoot—”
“I was coming to find you,” he admitted, and I smiled. “For sex,” he quickly added as if he needed to clarify.
“Just for sex,” I agreed, then rolled my hip against him. “We can amend our one-night agreement, right?” I asked, arching against him.
“To what exactly, Bristol?” He flicked his tongue over my bottom lip.
I whimpered. “Open-ended. No strings. Just…us.”
“Deal.” He shuddered, then pressed into me harder. I gasped, arching my head back against the door. Cormac didn’t waste a second, his lips on my neck, his teeth grazing along the edge of my collarbone.
“Cormac,” I sighed, rocking against him without a hint of embarrassment now. He wanted me, that much I could feel. And I wanted him.
It didn’t have to mean anything else.
He smirked as he made his way back up to my lips, leaning down just a bit to grab my other leg. He hauled me up until I had to lock my ankles around his hips. I kissed his neck, the shell of his ear, as he walked us through the high-rise hotel room.
“It’s beautiful,” I managed to say, glancing at the skyline of twinkling lights and skyscrapers that dominated his floor-to-ceiling windows in his room.
“Yeah, it is,” he said, stopping when he got to one of the glass walls I’d admired. He slowly, torturously slid me down his body until my heels clicked against the tiled floor.
“Is this one of Silas’s hotels?” I shivered as his fingers found the band of my jeans.
“Don’t,” he growled, popping open the button. “Say another man’s name right now.”
I arched a brow. “Or what?” I challenged him.
That smirk was back, and he slowly dropped to his knees, sliding my pants down with the motion. I moved to take my heels off, but he easily tugged my jeans over them, leaving me in nothing but a black thong, his Reapers’ jersey, and my stilettos.
“Fuck,” he growled, his hands smoothing over my thighs as he trailed a fiery gaze over the length of my body. “These legs,” he sucked his teeth before glancing up at me. “They’ll be the death of me.”
I trembled at the sight of him on his knees, and with his hands on my skin and that look in his eyes? It was enough to make me liquid.
“Cormac!” I screamed when he wasted no time in pushing my thong to the side and sliding his tongue between my thighs. I tangled my fingers in his hair, arching into his mouth as he feasted on me.
“You taste fucking amazing,” he said, and the vibrations from the words against my swollen flesh made me moan.
“Cormac,” I breathed his name, my grip tightening on his hair as he held me in place with his strong hands on my hips. I stumbled, my entire body coiling like a hot spring of need, but he steadied me against that glass wall.
“You about to come, baby?” he teased, his tongue swirling around that bundle of nerves. Teasing and flicking with nowhere near the amount of pressure I craved.
“Yes,” I said, sighing, arching into his tongue, trying like hell to get what I needed. “Please,” I begged.
“Nuh-uh,” he said, tsking me as he pulled back.
I whimpered from the lack of contact, blinking the haze out of my eyes. Before I could beg again, before I could breathe, he yanked my thong down until I stepped out of it, my heels clicking on the floor. He quickly shed himself of his clothes, tossing them over his shoulder before he spun me around.
“Hands on the glass,” he demanded, and a thrill of anticipation unfurled low in my core.
“Or what?” I challenged again.
I heard him tear open a foil packet with his teeth, and my heart stuttered.
He planted my ass with a firm smack, a delicious bite of pain rippling up my spine. I gasped, arching my back.
“Hands. On. The. Glass.”
Fuck, I was going to come just from the way his tongue shaped those orders.