“We’re not going to my place. We’re going to a hotel.”
“Oh.”
What was going through her mind?
“You don’t want me to go back to your place?” she asked.
“What? No, that’s not it.” He blew out a breath. “Fuck, sorry, sometimes I’m bad at this shit.”
“Taking women home with you?”
“Huh? Well, I’ve never taken another woman home with me.”
“Ever?”
“Never. Not even Nicole. You were the first.”
“Oh.” Softer. Sweeter. “That’s . . . wow.”
Damn. Should he have told her that? She was going to leave soon. Go back to Nashville. This was just one night.
Which is why he wanted to do it right.
“But now we’re going to a hotel? Because you’re sleeping with me? Is that somehow different?”
“Yes.”
She winced as he pulled into the hotel parking lot. He turned to her once he’d parked. “Shit, baby. That’s now how I meant it. I don’t want to take you back to the bunkroom because the walls are paper-thin and my idiot brothers live there. I want this to be special. To be good for us both. It won’t be with the two of them there.”
“Oh. I get that. The Crabapple motel had paper-thin walls. Old Al next door could hear everything. That reminds me, I really need to check on him.”
“Yeah?” Reaching out, he brushed her hair back over her ear. “What could he hear?”
She squirmed. This should be interesting.
“Nothing!” she cried, reaching for her door handle.
“Do not even think of getting out yourself,” he warned. “You’re already owed twenty-one. You do not want to add to the spanking you have coming.”
“Twenty-one? I thought it was eighteen!”
“You said sorry three more times. Perhaps I should round up to twenty-five.”
“Or you could round down . . . to none.”
He grinned at her. “Where would the fun be in that, pretty girl?”
19
The hotel room seemed pretty nice for a one-night stand.
She winced at the thought. Was it considered a one-night stand when the guy was your pretend boyfriend? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was standing in a gorgeous hotel suite, about to have sex with the sexiest, most protective man she’d ever met, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Here she stood in a mutilated pumpkin dress, no makeup, having just run out of a wedding where the groom had begged her to take him back . . . how did a person react to that?
And that didn’t touch Chandler’s assholery. Was that a word? She wasn’t sure. But it fit.
How dare he threaten Butch! He thought he could do whatever he liked without consequences.
Damn. She really wished she didn’t have to see him one last time before she left for good.
Or you could stay . . . find an apartment, a job, maybe see Butch every once in a while.
Okay, that sort of thinking would end in disaster. She’d get emotionally involved. She couldn’t help it. He was everything she could have dreamed of and more.
And she knew he couldn’t want more than a casual hookup.
“Baby, hey, you all right?” He walked over to her after putting the phone down. He’d called down for some snacks and champagne from room service.
She guessed he was starving after missing his dinner.
“My promise of free food and alcohol didn’t pan out so well, huh?” Odd, she felt strangely numb. “Instead, you were insulted and bribed.”
“I didn’t take the bribe.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging lightly. “And I don’t give a shit about the food or drink. I care about you, though.”
“You do?” she asked.
He doesn’t mean it like that. He’s being kind.
“I do. A lot. And I want to make sure you’re all right. Today wasn’t easy.”
“It was fine.”
“That’s another five, pretty girl.”
“I mean, today sucked monkey balls. Big old salty monkey balls. And will you please stop me from talking about monkey balls?” she asked desperately.
“Happily.” He reached one hand around the back of her neck, holding her head still as he ravaged her mouth. By the time he was finished, she was barely able to stand, and her vision had gone slightly blurry.
“I . . . I like your method of shutting me up,” she admitted.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because so do I. Baby, if this is too much for you tonight, then we don’t have to do anything. We can just eat room service, veg on the bed, and watch a movie.”
Dear Lord.
That was her ideal night in. And she was tempted . . . so tempted.
But it came down to what she wanted more and, really, there was no competition. What she wanted was him.
“No.” She pressed her hands to his chest. “I love the thought, and maybe if I didn’t want you this badly . . .” Shoot. What was she saying? Now he was going to know how desperate she was for him to touch her.