So Wright (The Wrights 1)
Fuck, you feel so good.
Bring it, Miranda. Come for me.
She shook the sex-crazed haze from her brain and rubbed her forehead, trying to focus on the words she’d just told Elaina. One minute on the phone with him was enough to push all other thoughts out of her head. “I didn’t think, you know, with you leaving town soon…”
Miranda heard the breathy desperation in her own voice and stopped talking.
“Sure, I get it.” A long, heavy pause. “So, can I give you my number? In case, I don’t know”—his voice dipped into a sexy purr—“you need me. Like, maybe…tonight.”
Miranda laughed. Then groaned. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But right now, all she wanted was to be somewhere she was comfortable and confident—even if that was only in the bedroom with a virtual stranger.
“I don’t know,” she teased, “you really wore me out the last time. A girl’s got to work, you know?”
“Hmm, yeah, I know.” A smile drifted through his voice. “I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to carry the load for one night. Let you just lie there while I ravage. Find new ways to bring you multiple orgasms. I might even let you nap in between.”
“Wow, that’s a generous offer.”
“Right?”
She smiled as silence stretched over the line, broken only by the music, voices, and noise from the bar in the background. Miranda couldn’t remember ever feeling so electrically connected to another person.
“I can come to you.” The heat rolling through his voice made her tingle everywhere. “Or I can pick you up and we can come back to the hotel.”
“What? No coffee? No small talk?”
He laughed. Then groaned. “Girl, you’re killin’ me here.”
She hesitated, reminding herself of all the reasons she shouldn’t do this. But all she had to do was tune in to the conversation behind her to have all her self-preservation disintegrate.
“I’ll come to you.” Her voice came out low and serious and breathless.
“Now, I hope.” His voice mirrored hers. “Like, right fucking now.”
Miranda laughed. “Yeah. Now.”
“There is a God.”
“Your hotel.”
“I’ll be waiting outside.”
“Hey.” She caught him before he hung up. “Tell Violet to cover for me, would you? She’ll know what I mean.”
10
This was crazy. Jack knew it, but this attraction felt beyond his control.
He paced the width of the landing just outside the wide glass foyer to the hotel.
Tell Violet to cover for me, would you? She’ll know what I mean.
Her last words reminded him of just how little he knew about her. He couldn’t even google her since he didn’t know her last name. Over the weekend, he’d relived their night together a hundred times in his head. He’d convinced himself that one night of good sex could tell someone a lot about a person. Whether they were giving or selfish, confident or insecure, warm or cold, engaged or distant. Fundamental building blocks of a personality. He’d made himself believe that all those little moments they’d shared in between sex sessions had been the beginnings of something beyond lust.
Now…
Jack blew out a hard breath and rubbed his forehead, trying to tamp down the nerves. He was getting so ahead of himself. He might want romance, but Miranda had been clear this was all about lust for her.
Movement caught his eye up a side street. Miranda came toward the hotel from the direction of the bar. She must have left her car there. Suspicions flourished. His stomach dropped a notch.