“Yeah? Maybe I’ll tell Georgia to start prepping meals for me.”
Three more floors until the lobby. I glanced at Corey. He was avoiding me completely.
“Oh, babe, you’ll have to try the halibut tonight. It was my favorite thing on the menu when I came here last year with Arabel.”
Corey nodded when Lola spoke, nothing more. Wasn’t Lola a vegan? Halibut was fish . . . gah, she was so full of shit. Only a vegan when she wanted to be.
The elevator finally stopped and the doors spread apart. Corey was out first, with Lola trailing behind him. He was uncomfortable, that much was clear. The least he could do was try to play it cool.
* * *
Dinner was at an Italian restaurant with a view of the Hudson River. This particular restaurant was located on the rooftop of a building. Candlelight and jazz music made the restaurant feel warm and welcoming and slightly romantic. If it had been only Corey and me, it would have been romantic. But it wasn’t just us. It was us, his wife, and two other people who talked too damn much.
Lola was chatting with Noah about the gala, and while she did, I brushed the tip of my foot across Corey’s upper thigh under the table. His eyes stretched, and then he cleared his throat, picking up his water, and chugging it down as a distraction.
“Don’t worry, Corey,” Lola said to him as he adjusted in his seat. “The boring stuff will be over soon.” She laid a kiss on his cheek. I wanted to cut off her lips. That was my cheek. My man.
After what had happened in the man cave, I was becoming more territorial with Corey. Anytime Lola talked about him, it angered me, but I smiled to push through it. Anytime she complained, I wanted to slap her across her face for being so ungrateful. She didn’t appreciate him at all, Marriott. Not one bit.
Corey picked up his fork and cut into his halibut. I couldn’t believe he’d ordered it just to please Lola. He didn’t even seem to be enjoying it.
Once dinner was over, we all walked back to the hotel, absorbing the city life. Cars and taxis zipped by, couples walked hand in hand, and people rushed into nearby bars or restaurants, dressed like superstars.
I walked next to Olivia and listened to her go on about some novel she was reading, pretending to be interested. Noah was in front of us, checking things off his list for the gala—he was very organized that way—and Corey and Lola were ahead, arm in arm. Ugh.
We’d have an early start in the morning, getting things organized, so as soon as we were inside the hotel, we parted ways to go to our rooms.
Just after I’d kicked off my shoes, peeled out of my stockings, and poured myself another glass of champagne, someone knocked on my door.
Hesitant, I took slow steps toward it. If it was Noah again, I was going to flip. I mean, how organized did he have to be? I checked the peephole, and my heart did a little flip.
It wasn’t Noah at all.
With haste, I snatched the door open. On the other side was Corey.
The red tie he wore for dinner was gone, his white, button-down shirt unbuttoned at the collar. One of his forearms was pressed on the frame of the door, the other at his hip, as if he’d been standing there for a while.
His eyes shot right up to mine. Then he dropped his arm and charged right in, cupping a hand around the back of my neck. I held back a gasp as his solid, warm body pressed mine and the door clicked shut behind him. His lips were instantly glued to mine and I ended up spilling my champagne on the floor.
Then the glass hit the floor. Thank goodness it was covered in carpet.
My back landed on the king-size bed and Corey climbed between my legs, still kissing me. Groaning as he palmed one of my breasts.
When he finally broke the kiss, he looked me in the eye with his warm, brown irises and said, “All I could think about was your ass in that skirt.” His eyes ventured down to the black leather riding up my thighs.
“Where is your wife?” I asked. I loved pretending I didn’t want him. The truth was, I wanted him more than anything.
“She went to meet one of her donors for a drink.”
“And you didn’t go with her?”
“No. I was tired.”
“And now you’re here.” I couldn’t fight my smile as I dragged my palm over his erection. My teeth sank into my bottom lip for a brief moment before I said, “You don’t feel so tired, Dr. Maxwell.”
“Quiet,” he ordered, and then he somehow managed to shove the tight skirt up to my waist. I busied myself with unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, then shoving them down, and he wasted no time when his dick was free.