“And then yesterday,” he continued, “my roast beef was so rare that it could have walked off the plate. And the ladies at the table next to mine, their chicken looked bone dry. They didn’t really notice, they were too busy talking and laughing. But I noticed. And this morning, my toast was burnt. Every time I picked it up, black crumbs fell all over my newspaper. And the guys at the next table, the ones who play poker after dinner, had very runny eggs.”
I gently stopped him. “I’m really sorry this happened, Mr. Grant. Maybe on Monday, I could eat lunch with you and you could show me the food?”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess I could do that.”
“And maybe Mrs. Stinson and Miss O’Leary could join us. Have you met them? Mrs. Stinson’s a great cook, and Miss O’Leary used to work in the restaurant industry, so you can ask their views of the food. You’ll have a lot to talk about.”
He left much happier than when he arrived. I certainly understood his unspoken desire to share mealtimes with others. I hated eating in my room by myself on nights that Luke wasn’t at the hotel. Meals were much more fun with friends, and I was pretty sure Mr. Grant would like the women I was going to introduce him to on Monday. Plus, they’d probably defend the food around this place, which would be a bonus.
I wished that all of the residents’ problems could be resolved that easily. Also, I hoped that next time he was upset, he’d come find me a little earlier in the day. I was anxious to start my weekend. And, okay, I could admit it—anxious to see Luke. I’d already planned what I’d change into, and how I’d fix my hair. Not that it was a date. I knew that, and I dutifully answered “Not tonight,” when John asked me if I had a hot date on my way out the door.
* * *
A half dozen guests crowded around the front desk when I got to the hotel, so I decided to take my time. I took a shower, brushed my hair, and put on a rose-colored, scoop neck sweater and my favorite jeans. And just for the hell of it, I slipped into some sexy sandals with a three-inch heel. Luke was tall enough for that. Not that it mattered since we spent so much time separated by a counter.
It was after nine by the time I caught him alone. He looked tired when I approached, but his eyes lit up. At least I thought they did. At least I hoped they did.
“Chicago-style deep dish pizza?” he said, which was not his usual greeting. “Please say ‘yes.’ I’ve been craving it all day.”
“Yessss,” I said, dragging the syllable out. “But I hate to break it to you that we’re not in Chicago.”
“Never fear—I know a place. What do you want on it?”
I knew the proper answer when sharing a pizza with a guy. “Pepperoni.”
“You’re perfect,” he said, and fortunately he was too busy dialing to notice my involuntary smile. By the time he’d finished ordering, I’d managed to wipe it off my face. Mostly. “It’s going to be over an hour.”
I looked at the large clock on the wall behind him. That would make it well after his shift ended. “Can you stay that late?”
“Of course, dummy. I don’t turn into a pumpkin after ten.” He grinned when he said it, but then his face fell. “Shit, I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“I was thinking earlier that maybe we should cool it on eating in the office in the evenings. For a little while. Barbara said she’s been getting some complaints.”
“From who?” I couldn’t imagine anyone complaining about our sharing a meal together.
“It’s total BS, I know. But she’s been on the warpath lately. Telling me I have to maintain a professional distance with the guests, especially young women. Professional! Half the time she’s around me, her boobs are practically falling out of her dress.”
It took a little effort, but I managed to put that disturbing image out of my mind. “Do you think she knows how much we hang out?” A new thought occurred to me. “Are there cameras in the lobby?”
I looked around, but he shook his head. “She’s like this in the daytime, too. Always finding an excuse to interrupt when I’m dealing with female guests she thinks are more attractive than her. Which is pretty much all of them, given her personality,” he said, making me feel better.
“Have you thought about looking for another job?”
“Yeah, I’ve looked a little, but I haven’t found much. At least this job has evening hours so that I can go to class during the day. A lot of the jobs out there won’t guarantee regular hours. And it does pay my tuition. I think the owner probably gives me a little extra combat pay for putting up with her.”
He looked so bummed out that I made a snap decision. “How about we eat in my room?”
“Your room?” Luke echoed, his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah,” I said. But then I felt a little embarrassed. The absolute last thing I wanted to do was to remind him of someone like Barbara. But there was no going back on it now. “We could watch pizza and eat a movie.”
I replayed that sentence in my head and felt my face flush. Luke laughed, and after a few moments of pure mortification, I did too.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said.
* * *
I straightened up the clothes I’d left out and neatened the toiletries in the bathroom. This would be his first visit to my room, and I wanted it to look nice. But that was a stupid thought. All of the rooms were the same, so he’d seen rooms like mine plenty of times. Still, I couldn’t help fussing with everything, including my hair and makeup. By the time he knocked on the door, I was a nervous wreck.
My senses went into overload as a hot man with a hot pizza entered the room. Both looked delicious to me, but the pizza had a slight edge because its yummy scent reached me first.
Luke set it on the small two-person table by the tiny kitchenette. As I got plates, he asked, “Did you find a movie?”
“Yeah.” I picked up the remote and turned on a premium channel. A popular action flick from last year had just started.
“Excellent,” Luke said, “except …”
I followed his gaze and his train of thought. If we sat at the table, we’d never be able to see the TV.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, heading fort he door.
After he left, I did my best to scoop out two slices of thick, deep dish pizza with a regular fork and table knife. How could so much cheese fit onto the crust? And why was the crust yellow? Chicago was a strange place.
There was a quick knock and then Luke came in, holding at least four pillows. He piled them on top of the others on the queen-size bed, and it was only then that I saw he had two bottles of beer. “We have a secret stash in the main office,” Luke explained. “For emergencies.”
We awkwardly settled on the bed, setting our plates on big, fluffy pillows. I used a fork to cut through what seemed like an inch of molten cheese. It was going to be messy—too bad the little kitchenette didn’t have better utensils. My kitchen stuff was all in storage.
I took a bite and … wow. It was sinfully delicious. “Remind me to go to Chicago ASAP.”
“Will do,” Luke said after swallowing a large bite and sighing in satisfaction. “I told you this place was good. Only one in town that has an authentic cornmeal crust.”
“All the places you order from are good—except I’m still holding out for Lithuanian takeout.”
“If there was a Lithuanian place within a fifty-mile radius, I’d know about it. Finding good takeout is my superpower. Well, it’s one of them anyway.”
I glanced at him sideways. “What are the other ones?”
“I’m hoping you’ll find out sometime.”
I was kind of hoping I would, too.
Chapter Three
I ONLY MANAGED to eat a slice and a half. Honestly, I wasn’t trying to fake a ladylike appetite in front of Luke. He’d seen me chow down on many kinds of food. But the pizza was just so filling.
Luke finished three slices as well as his beer. I went to the kitchenette and looked around. It definitely wasn’t stocked for hosting, but I was ab
le to offer him soda or red wine. He chose the wine, and he cleared away the plates as I removed the cork.
I poured two glasses, embarrassed that all I could find in the cabinet were two standard-issue juice glasses. I brought them over to the bed, which seemed more intimate now that it was a bed again, not a makeshift table.
“Thanks,” Luke said, and clinked his glass to mine. “To your new job.” He took a sip and then set his glass on the nightstand next to the bed. Casually, he began unbuttoning his shirt.
I froze, unsure what to say, as his hands moved down his chest, undoing one button after another. While I certainly couldn’t complain at seeing more of his smooth, muscled chest, it all seemed so sudden. We hadn’t even been on a date yet. We hadn’t even kissed.
Luke glanced over and did a double-take at the shocked expression I must’ve been wearing. “Sorry! I wasn’t thinking.”
I forced my jaw closed and tried to act casual. “It’s fine, make yourself comfortable.” I moved to the other side of the bed and sat down, leaving a foot of neutral space between us.
Luke looked a little sheepish. “I know it’s stupid, but I always take off my shirt when I have something like red wine. They make us wear these damn button-downs, and they’re a bitch to clean when they get stained. And I hate ironing them, so I try to keep them wearable as long as possible.”
I laughed—it seemed like such a male attitude toward clothing. “Then why didn’t you take it off when you had the pizza?”
“Unlike this time, I stopped myself when I realized how it might look.”
My gaze was drawn to the expanse of smooth, tan skin stretched over hard muscles. I sighed wishfully. “Actually, it looks pretty damn good.” This time, I was the one examining his face, unsure of how he would react. My brain and body were registering that this was the first time I’d truly been alone with this really sexy guy—one I liked a lot. I wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. His friendship was far more important to me than anything physical. I’d never been the type to jump into bed with guys right away. Except that we were already in bed. Crap. Maybe I’d made a mistake.
But Luke smiled, and when he didn’t immediately jump my bones, I was relieved … mostly. Instead, he reached out and turned off the overhead light above the headboard. The glow from the TV seemed brighter as the rest of the room was cast in shadows. He was still watching me. When he held his arm out, I scooted next to him. His arm around my shoulder felt so good—warm, firm, and strong.
We watched the movie for a while, but I couldn’t keep my mind on the plot, not with Luke’s hard body pressed against my side. When I glanced toward him, I could still see his bare chest from when he’d started unbuttoning his shirt. I wished he’d undone it all the way. He was in really good shape, better than I would have expected. He must work out in the mornings before his classes.
Finally, Luke leaned over and kissed me lightly on the forehead. I turned my face up to his. Soft lips brushed against mine, a gentle tickle at first, and then a slightly more insistent pressure. I angled my body toward him and closed my eyes. He gave a soft sigh that I could both hear and feel as a whisper of warm air on my tingling lips.
Then his mouth was on mine more fully, more firmly, and it felt like I’d been waiting for this for months instead of mere weeks. I loved the way I fit in the circle of his strong arms with his bare chest pressing against the soft material of my sweater. Yeah, I admit it, I’d picked something soft and touchable on purpose.
He ran his hands across my back, sending shivers in new directions. His kiss grew more intense, and my pulse quickened as I parted my lips in response to his teasing tongue. Damn. It felt so good. I ran my hands through his wavy hair, then down around his neck, trying to pull him closer.
I let one hand trail down his throat, and then I placed my palm flat against the warm, hard muscles of his chest. I rubbed in a circle, and let out a little moan. I pushed his open shirt to the side. Okay, so he could probably totally see that I was drooling over his chest, but I couldn’t help it. He looked—and felt—so damn good. I couldn’t help myself.
Luke chuckled lightly against my lips and pulled his head back an inch. “Do you want me to take my shirt off?”
My eyes flew open and warmth flooded my face. I tried to pull back a little more, but his arms were still wrapped around me, and he didn’t loosen his grasp.
He looked directly into my eyes. “It’s okay if you do.”
“But we’re friends,” I said, my protest sounding feeble even to my own ears.
“Yes, we are. Good friends. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been dying to touch you since the day you checked in. But I’m not going to rush you or expect you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He continued to look steadily at me, his vivid blue eyes penetrating my defenses. Then he grinned and broke the spell. “I wasn’t kidding before about hating ironing. It’s probably not a good idea to get it all wrinkled.”
I laughed lightly. “You do have a point.”
“So, do you want me to take it off?”
I nodded, my gaze drawn to his chest again.
“Then maybe you should ask nicely.”
Ooooo. That was unexpected. I gaped up at Luke in surprise, and he winked at me, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. I wondered if he could tell his words had excited me, too. I rubbed my hand up and down his smooth skin and said in a low but clear voice, “Please take off your shirt, Luke.”
His eyes widened slightly at my husky tone. Good to know I had maybe made his pulse quicken, too. But his features quickly settled into a wicked grin. “I will … if you’ll put it on.”
I was surprised. “That’s a change. You’re in a girl’s bed and you want her to put more clothes on?”
Luke laughed and released me. He sat up straight and undid the last few buttons of his shirt. I could see the top of his snug, black jeans. “I was hoping that girl might take a few things off before putting the shirt on.”
“How many is a few?”
“I’ll leave that up to her. To you. Are you game?”
I thought about it for a minute. I really did trust Luke not to do anything I didn’t want to. The bigger problem was how much I might want him to do. But right now, the desire to be playful with him, and the thought of kissing him again was just too strong. I held my hand out. “I really don’t see how this counts as keeping the shirt from being wrinkled,” I said, but I smiled as I watched him peel it off his firm biceps.
Damn, he looked good. I tried not to stare, but … damn. His arms, which I fervently hoped would be wrapped around me soon, were really well-muscled. And his chest … let’s just say that the little peak through his unbuttoned shirt before hadn’t done it justice. Wow. He handed his shirt to me, and I reluctantly tore my eyes from his torso and forced my feet to move in the direction of the bathroom.
After a quick internal debate, I emerged a few minutes later wearing his white dress shirt partially buttoned over my black lace bra and panties. Sure, I felt a little shy, but at least I was reasonably confident in my appearance. Thankfully, I’d shaved the day before and painted my toenails a hot pink. Wishful thinking, perhaps?
Luke had his back to me; he was pouring more wine. When he turned, he stilled. His eyes raked over my body once, then twice. “Good choice,” he managed, after a long moment.
I moved to him and took my glass. Took a long sip. Set it down. Moved into his arms. He kissed me again, and his hands rubbed my back through the shirt. His fingers traced the outline of my bra, and then he moved them lower, no doubt feeling the high cut panties covering my ass. “Really good choice,” he murmured against my lips.
My hands were busy, too. His bare torso felt unbelievably strong and smooth. I still couldn’t believe he was in such good shape. How had I not known that?
Our kiss deepened as he backed me up against the bed. He lowered me down and then gracefully lifted himself up and over, settling on my other side. He pulled
me close again, and I couldn’t help wrapping my bare leg around his.
I rested my head on his bicep, and he plunged his free hand into my chestnut tresses, squeezing them and gathering a handful. He tugged, gently, and it made completely unrelated body parts course with pleasure. He moved his hand down my arm, to my waist, and then slid his fingers under the edge of my shirt. He cupped my ass in his strong hand, and I buried my face in his arm and tried to stifle a moan.
Why did that feel so good? Okay, it was true that no one had touched me there in quite some time. I’d definitely been having a dry spell as of late, but my career had come first. I loved my job, but it wasn’t a good place to meet eligible men—at least not ones who were born after World War II.
I leaned into Luke, kissing the corner of his mouth and then trailing my lips down his neck, making him moan. When I got to his hard brown nipple, I licked around it, teasing and nuzzling it.
He groaned deep in his throat. “That feels so good, Darcy. You feel so good.” His wandering hand moved back up my thigh and pulled my leg up higher, until my knee was resting on his hip. Since I was half on top of him, I could feel the hard, hot bulge straining under his jeans. I rubbed against it and was rewarded by another moan.
I attacked his other nipple with my mouth. He was busy, too. His free hand caressed my thigh again, rubbing up and down, each time getting closer to the thin strip of lace that covered my slit. His touch was light, teasing.
He grazed his fingers softly over the crease at the top of my leg, and I gasped. I squirmed on top of him, trying to escape his torturous touch. “No tickling,” I pleaded, even though the delicious shivers radiating through my body thrilled me.
His fingers paused, and he looked up at me. “Oh, does that tickle?” he asked as innocently as possible, which wasn’t all that innocent since he looked hot as sin underneath me.
Naughty Nights: A Bad Boy Romance Page 2
