Beautiful Bastard
Page 59It went on forever, this splintering ecstasy. Her body rising to meet mine, her mouth wet and hungry, biting and sweet.
I woke up when my pillow was yanked out from under my head and Chloe mumbled something incoherent about spinach and hot dogs.
The woman was a sleep-talking, restless bed hog.
I ran a greedy hand over her ass before rolling to look at the clock. It was only a little after five in the morning, but I knew we had to get moving soon to make our eight o’clock flight. As much as I hated to leave our merry little den of sin, I hadn’t done any work here and was starting to feel increasingly guilty about the career I’d essentially neglected. For the past decade my career had been my life, and although I was growing more comfortable with the obliterating effect Chloe had on that balance, I had to retrieve my focus. It was time to get home, put on the Boss Hat, and start taking names.
The early morning sun filtered in and washed her pale skin a gray-blue light. She was curled on her side, facing me, her hair a dark tangle across the pillow behind her. Most of her face was now cuddled into my pillow.
I could understand her hesitance to decide how our relationship would work back in reality. The San Diego bubble had been amazing, in part because it lacked every aspect that made our relationship tricky to begin with: her job at Ryan Media, my role in the family business, her scholarship, our independently sharp attitudes. Although I wanted to push to define this thing between us and set expectations so that I could dive in headfirst, her approach—far more tentative—was probably the right one.
We hadn’t bothered to pull the blankets back on the bed after we’d worked them to the floor last night, and I took the chance to stare at her nude body. I could definitely get used to waking up with this woman in my bed.
But unfortunately, we didn’t have a leisurely morning ahead of us. I tried to wake her with my hand on her shoulder, then a kiss on her neck, and finally a hard pinch on her ass.
She reached out and smacked my arm hard before I’d even pulled it back. I wasn’t even sure she was awake. “Asshole.”
Chloe rolled over and stared up at me, face lined with pillow creases and her eyes unfocused. She didn’t bother to cover her body like she had the first morning, but she wasn’t all smiles, either. “Okay,” she said. She sat up, drank some water, and kissed my shoulder before climbing out of bed.
I watched her naked body as she walked to the bathroom, but not once did she look back at me. I didn’t exactly need a morning quickie, but I wouldn’t have minded a little spooning, maybe some pillow talk.
Probably shouldn’t have pinched her ass, then.
She didn’t emerge, and after collecting my things, I knocked on the bathroom door. “I’m heading next door to shower and pack.”
She was quiet for a few beats. “Okay.”
“Can I get something other than ‘okay’?”
Her laugh trailed from the other side of the door. “I believe I said ‘asshole’ earlier.”
I grinned.
“Sorry,” she said, kissing my jaw before pulling me down for a longer, deeper kiss. “I just get nervous before flying.”
She turned and walked back into the bathroom before I could meet her eyes and figure out if she was telling me the truth.
The room next door felt eerily spotless, even for a high-end hotel chain. It took no time to pack, no time to shower and dress. But something kept me from going back over to Chloe’s room so soon. It was as if she needed some time alone in there, to deal with whatever silent battle she was waging with herself. I could tell she was conflicted, but which way would she come down in the end? Would she decide she wanted to try? Or would she decide it wasn’t possible to balance work and us?
When impatience won out over chivalry, I pulled my bag into the hallway and knocked on her door.
She opened it, dressed like a naughty businesswoman pinup, and it took me approximately eight years to move my attention from her legs, up over her br**sts, and finally to her face.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
She gave me a shaky smile. “Hey.”
“Ready to go?” I asked, starting to walk past her to get her bag. The sleeve of my jacket brushed against her bare arm, and before I fully understood what was happening, she had my tie twisted around her fist and my back pressed against the wall, her mouth sliding over mine.
With one hand splayed on my chest, she began loosening my tie and groaned into my mouth when she felt my dick grow hard against her. Her nimble fingers had my tie yanked from my collar and on the floor at my feet before I remembered we had a flight to catch.
“Chloe,” I said, struggling to pull back from her kisses. “Baby, we don’t have time for this.”
“I don’t care.” She was nothing but teeth and lips, suction all down my neck, her hungry hands whipping my belt off, palming my cock.
I cursed under my breath, completely unable to resist the way she gripped me through my pants, her bossy wiggling and tugging on my clothes. “Fuck, Chloe, you’re f**king wild.”
I whipped her around, pressing her back into the wall and shoving my hand up beneath her blouse, roughly pushing the cup of her bra aside. Her greediness was infectious, and my fingers relished the pebbling of her ni**les, the firm swell of her breast as she pushed forward into my palm. I reached down and slid her skirt over her hips, shoved her underwear down, and she kicked it aside before I lifted her off the floor.