I begin to hear my pulse in my ears.
He leans in and whispers in my ear. “I want to hear you fucking moan, Anderson.” His breath tickles my ear, and goose bumps scatter. “It’s all I can think about; my cock has been weeping for you all day.”
Jesus.
“You don’t expect me to like you?” I ask, fascinated by his request.
“As a friend . . . who you can trust to take care of you sexually, of course.”
“Anything more?”
“Absolutely not.”
I sip my champagne as I process his words. “I’m not the kind of woman who does this sort of thing,” I whisper.
“And I’m the kind of man that does. You don’t even have to talk; I’ll do all the work.”
The air buzzes between us like electricity.
This is it, the defining moment—an offer to possibly find the woman inside of me whom I’ve lost. I know that I have two choices. I can go home alone and always regret this moment, or I can have honest sex with a man with whom it’s impossible to form an emotional attachment.
“We’re going to the cellar,” Nelson says jovially from behind us, breaking the spell. “You guys coming?”
I look over at the group as they all stand by the door, waiting for everyone, and I know I need to make a decision. “Um . . . no. I’m going to call it a night and go to bed.”
“Oh, okay.” Nelson turns to Tristan. “You coming?”
“No, I’m meeting a friend here at the bar. She hasn’t arrived yet,” he lies without a beat.
Nelson smiles. “Lucky bastard. Have fun for me.” He slaps him hard on the back and smiles at the two of us. “Good night, then. See you tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
The group waves to us, and with a loud chatter among them, they leave the bar.
Tristan’s eyes come to me. “Your room or mine?”
“Mine.”
I unlock the door to my room as he stands behind me. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck, and I may pass out at any moment . . . or orgasm. Both options aren’t ideal or particularly cool.
He kicks the door shut and, without a word, takes my face in his hands and kisses me as he walks me backward toward my bed. His tongue dives deep into my mouth as he holds me close, and goose bumps scatter up my spine.
No matter what happens from here . . . the man can kiss. So . . . well.
Our tongues dance together, and I can’t even open my eyes to look at him.
I’m so in the moment that it’s just ridiculous.
“Jesus,” he murmurs against my lips.
I giggle.
“Hurry up. Fuck.” He begins to undo the buttons of his shirt with urgency.
“What’s the rush?”
“The rush is I want you naked, and I can’t get you naked until I’m naked. It’s the naked law.”