Page 21 of Insatiable Bachelor (Bachelor Tower 1)
“And here’s your tiger now,” Darling says, looking perfectly giddy with anticipation. “Dalton, I hear you’re finally settling down. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day you were in a real relationship. I mean, when are you going to give up your apartment in Bachelor Tower?”
My cheeks blaze with heat, and I can practically feel the walls closing in on me. I don’t know how long someone can go without breathing before they pass out, but I’m on the verge of finding out.
Dalton frowns but places an arm possessively around my waist. “How is Peter doing, Darling? Is he still in France?”
Darling shrinks back and gulps, looking suddenly as uncomfortable as I was a moment ago. “He is,” she croaks out. “I’m going to refresh my drink. Good to see you.”
“I am so sorry,” I gush, squeezing his arm tightly. “She was being so snarky, and I blurted out that we were in a relationship. Thank you for not making me look like a complete idiot.”
He began to relax. “What did she say?”
I really don’t want to talk about it, so I change the subject. “How did your talk with Cannington go?”
“Better than expected,” Dalton answers with a bright, excited look on his face. “I’ve been waiting for him to come to me for months. I knew there was a big opportunity for the two of us to partner on some foreign deals, but Cannington doesn’t respond well to people who pitch him unsolicited ideas. His office is a revolving door of people who want to be in business with him, and he turns most away. I planted the seed with a few associates of his, and I knew he’d eventually come my way.”
“That’s great. I’m glad it worked out. I’m sorry about the thing with Darling. I’m sure she’ll be spreading that rumor around as fast as she can. It’ll damage your reputation.”
“I’ll survive. There are worse things to be accused of than winning over a woman like you.”
“A woman like me?” I ask, blushing again. “You mean a yoga instructor. Dog walker. Former child receptionist for a failing employment agency?”
“A woman who can wear that dress and make everyone else in this place look like a peasant. A woman who can smile and mean it, no matter what’s going on around her. A woman who hurts because her dad’s hurting. I can live with people thinking I’m dating a woman like that.”
Dating? He said dating? That’s what we’re doing? “I’d like to dance,” I say as the orchestra in the main room begins to play. Dalton bends his arm to escort me to the dance floor and the heady thrill of the night overtakes me. The lights. The opulence. The drinks. Every surface perfectly decorated. Even the food on the table looks like it’s been artfully designed.
Maybe it’s not so bad to have a night like this every once in a while. I imagine Kylie here and how she would maneuver through the crowd. For once, I don’t focus on how our differences separate us but rather on how beautiful some of our differences are.
Damn Millie—she was right again. Being in the Bachelor Tower, spending time with Dalton, experiencing all of this with him is opening my eyes. Maybe I don’t have to choose a life that is all one way or all the other.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Penny
Dalton’s reserved a room at one of the most opulent hotels in the city. He’d been cool in his invitation. It wasn’t: Hey, I’ve got a room booked, want to go back and sleep together? Dalton was so much smoother than that.
“Have you ever stayed at the Four Seasons? The view from the top floor is the best in the city. I have a reservation there tonight.”
“You do?”
“When I RSVP’d I wasn’t expecting you to be my date, and I didn’t feel like commuting back to my place. I can certainly have a car service take you back though if you’d like.”
The decision is mine. After a week of ending each date with a kiss, am I ready for more?
“That won’t be necessary,” I say coyly as we step out to the busy street that is turning quickly into a crossroads. I know if we end up at that hotel tonight I will give all of myself to him. I’m hungry, no . . . starving, for the moment to finally have Dalton give me all the pleasure he’s been promising me.
“Oh yes,” he says, spinning so our bodies are pressed together tightly. He backs me up a step or two until I’m at the wall of the building we just left. With ravenous abandon, he tips my head back and kisses me in a way I’ve never been kissed. His tongue plunges into my mouth, swirling and owning the space, and before I can even consider our public location my hand is caught up in his dark hair, tugging and begging him silently never to stop.
We’re out on the street; I can hear people passing by, but my body is vibrating for more. I arch against him, rubbing myself against his rock-hard cock.
“I could fuck you here,” he growls, his lips only an inch from mine, wide chest blocking my view of everything beyond him.
“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” I whisper back, and he laughs loudly.
When he pulls away I feel empty. Like I’ve never been touched in my life or I’ll never be touched again. However far it is to this hotel, is too damn far for me. We don’t talk as we walk. His hand is in mine and our pace is bordering on frantic as we burst through the lobby doors and head straight for the elevator.
“Don’t you need to check in?” I ask, pausing until he pulls me along.
“I picked up the key earlier,” he says, pulling it from his pocket. “I don’t like to waste time.” He proves his statement true as the elevator doors close, and he pulls me into his arms. This isn’t the restrained kiss we’ve shared. His touch is just the right amount of rough. I give myself over to it.
He lifts his head and looks at me with the same wild stare. “You’re sure?” he asks raggedly. “If you need more time, say it now.”
Tears spring to my eyes and any remaining doubt dropped away. I pull his mouth back to mine and rub myself against his bulging cock.
“We’re going straight to the top,” he said between kisses, looking at me with a devilish grin. “I should be able to wait, but—”
His hand slides up my dress and beneath my panties. I’m already wet for him and that seems to excite him further. His finger plunges inside me as his thumb works my clit. I’m not worried the door might open. I don’t care about anything past him and the fire he’s lighting inside me.
“You feel so fucking good,” he whispers hotly.
I answer in a moan. God, I don’t want him to stop.
The elevator opens into a private hallway. We stumble out. A moment later he sweeps me into his arms and carries me past the living room toward what I’m guessing is the bedroom.
We make it most of the way, but our eyes meet, and we’re lost. He lowers me slowly and begins to kiss me again.
I’ve never felt so bold, so free. It’
s my turn to push him to the wall, and though my size limits my ability, he plays along. A primal growl of approval escapes his lips, and I’m suddenly soaked with desire. I yank off his bow tie and pop every button off his shirt as I rip it free. Kissing my way down his chest, I manage to pull at his belt and free his hard cock from his pants.
The desire to swallow his firm, pulsing cock overtakes me, and before he can catch his hands in my hair, I have nearly all of him in my mouth.
“Fuck,” he calls out in a husky whisper as I slide my tongue up and down his shaft, catching a rhythm that seems to be sending him quickly to the brink of ecstasy. He stops me, though. “No, not like this. Not this time. Slow down, baby.”
The tables turn, and he’s undressing me, kissing his way down my body. When I’m naked he holds my hands above my head and runs his hands up and down my body as if he’s savoring every moment. There isn’t an inch of me his hands don’t worship. I’m writhing with impatience. It’s not fair that I can’t touch him. When his mouth follows the path his hands had taken, I’m beyond coherent thought.
He drops to his knees and pulls my pussy roughly to his mouth. I dig my hands in his hair and wonder if what I did with the other men was even sex, because it was nothing like this. His tongue is magic. His fingers are skilled. My body is doing things it’s never done before, and it’s heaven—sheer heaven.
I sob out his name when I come. I realize I should apologize to every woman I’ve ever silently judged for being with a string of men. If Dalton had been my first, I wouldn’t be able to go a week—let alone a year—without experiencing this again.
“Get on the bed,” he demands suddenly, and when I hesitate, he lifts me like I’m as light as a feather. “I can’t wait any longer.”
“I don’t want you to,” I moan, running my hand over my sex and tipping my head back, overrun with anticipation.
He lays me down on the bed and rolls on a condom. He’s above me a moment later. I part my legs wide and run my hands over his strong chest.
