Page 58 of Hard
What if he doesn’t follow me?
What if he does?
He looked so angry. So hurt.
At the third floor, I turn left and walk the length of the corridor, taking a sly glance at the open staircase and rolling my lips inward to hide my wide smile of relief.He’s following. But what next?
No modern key card at this hotel. Rather, a large ornate key on a large red tassel matches the plaque with the name of the room.Lillith.I push the door open, glad the room was left in some semblance of order, and ignoring the faint scent of lube in the air, I step inside and leave the door ajar.
Leaning against the frame of the wrought-iron four poster bed,I close my eyes a moment before the door creaks open.
I breathe in. Breathe out. Try to ignore the hammer of my pulse as I feel him drawing closer. Hear his footsteps. Feel his eyes on me.
I wet my lips as his words wind their way around my ear as his fingers brush a lock of hair from my cheek.
‘You. Are.Trouble.’
I open my eyes to his impassive expression. His strong arms crossed over his chest. Flecks of green and gold glow in his hazel gaze; his lips relaxed, but his jaw tense.
‘It’s not what it looks like.’
‘What did it look like?’ his low voice almost growls.
‘Like I was on a date.’
‘Drinking wine. In a hotel. With a man trying to impress you.’
‘He wasn’t—’
‘Troubleandoblivious. And a liar?’
‘I am not.’
‘But you like him?’
I wet my lips and roll them together. Neither answer works here. If I say yes, I’m a conniving bitch. If I say no, I’m a liar. Could I see myself dating Troy? Yeah. Before Keir, I actually could. Now? I can’t see anything but the man in front of me.
‘You wet for him?’
My heart begins to thud. He has no right to ask me something like that, and I don’t have to answer him... even as I find myself widening my stance.
Keir sighs, conflicted. At least, that’s what it looks like as he takes my hands in his and encourages me to grasp the hem of my skirt. I wriggle it upwards until it’s gathered at my waist—it’s so tight it stays there. But I don’t have time to feel even slightly ridiculous as he takes my hand, slides it down my stomach, and tucks my fingers under the pale pink silk of my panties.
‘You show me,’ he demands, covering my hand with his.
I don’t know whether to concentrate on his gaze or the path of my fingers right now. They’re both equally as unravelling.Equally as demanding.
‘Spread your legs wider.’ The heat in his gaze is unhinging; the low, seductive bass of his tone as tempting as the devil himself. ‘What are you waiting for?’
‘If I touch myself and I’m wet, you’ll think I’m into him.’
‘Will I? Or maybe I’ll just get off on watching you touch yourself. Come on, trouble. You brought me up here for a reason.’
Did I? An unconscious decision to be with him. ‘It’s not even Friday,’ I whisper, tilting my hips, my fingers toying with the thin strip of ribbon above the silk.
‘I’m good with that,’ he murmurs, toying with a lock of my hair. Flicking the ends across my skin, he then pushes it from my shoulder. ‘Touch yourself. For me.’ A shiver shimmers across my skin, desire jumping between us like the dance of electricity as he watches me wet my parched lips, his eyes falling instinctively to where my hand slips under the ribbon adorned waistband.
At the first brush of my own clit, my legs begin to shake, and I whimper from the sensation. Keir presses his lips against mine, whispering a softhushinto my mouth.
