"Between that sign blocking the hall, and the fact that no one has come this way since we arrived, I'd put our odds of not getting caught at about eighty percent."
He kissed me so hard it left me gasping. "Tell me you're serious."
"I am always serious," I said. "Even if someone looks in, it'll seem as if we're just making out, very enthusiastically."
"Hell, yeah."
He kissed me again, boosting me up to straddle him, which lowered our odds for discretion, but I wasn't arguing. That's when his phone rang, the tone playing "Big Boss Man." His father. He let out a curse and fumbled to hit Ignore.
"Sorry. I texted him when I got off the plane. He's just saying hello. Lousy timing."
I caught his shirtfront and pulled him back into a kiss. He turned off the ringer and stuffed the phone into his pocket, and within seconds we were where we'd been, my back against the wall, skirt hiked up around my hips. I felt his phone vibrate and let out a snorting laugh.
"Ignore it," he said between kisses. "Please."
More kissing, hotter and deeper now, the bulging crotch of his jeans pushing against me in just the right spot, exquisite teasing as I could feel exactly what I wanted. He reached down for his belt. I beat him to it, and he chuckled. I flipped open his belt and then the button on his jeans and--
A shadow extended from behind the cardboard sign. Ricky turned his he
ad to follow my gaze, his eyes narrowed. Then he caught my chin in one hand, pulling my face back to his, kissing me again, and I could feel the determination there, the lust and the need and the resolve not to let anything get in our way. Except . . . well, while I'm not one to let the words "public place" stop me from having sex, I'm no exhibitionist, either, and neither was Ricky, and even as he kissed me, we'd both slowed, our attention pulled down that hallway.
"I'll get this," he muttered.
He fastened his belt with an angry snap of the leather and strode around the sign. Then, "What the fucking hell?"
I smoothed my skirt and hurried after him as CJ said, "I think the hotel is that way."
"No fucking--"
"Your dad called," Wallace cut in as I caught up. They were both standing there, bags at their feet, as if patiently waiting for us to finish.
"I know," Ricky said, his words brittle. "And since when am I not allowed ten fucking minutes to call him back?"
"We weren't interrupting," CJ said. "We were going to give you time--"
"He needs us at the clubhouse," Wallace said. "Something came up. Something urgent."
Ricky's jaw worked until he finally looked Wallace in the eye and said, in a deceptively soft voice, "Is it urgent, Wallace? Is it really?"
"That's what he said, and that's all he said. He called right after you left, so we came after you and saw you duck into the hallway here."
"Oh, to be that young again." CJ thumped Ricky on the shoulder. "We can give you two a few minutes. We'll stand guard."
"No," I murmured. "That's okay. Let's go."
Spontaneous sex in an airport was one thing. An efficient quickie really wasn't the same.
Ricky let CJ and Wallace lead the way.
"I'm sorry," he said when they were out of earshot.
"It's okay."
"No, goddamn it, Liv, it's not. My father needed me to suddenly take his place on a trip to Miami, and I went, even though I knew damned well he was only testing to see if I'd complain about leaving you. Then yesterday, when you were sick, I checked to see if I could catch an earlier flight back and he said no. I didn't argue. Now this? There's no emergency. He's snapping my leash. Yes, he's not just my dad, he's my boss, and I've always respected that. I don't ask for special treatment or shirk my responsibilities--"
"I know that. He knows that."
"Then why--" He bit the sentence off with a shake of his head. "You don't need to hear me bitching ten minutes after I get back. I'm sorry."