by Lola Darling
I don’t know how to feel about him. He’s a man, but he’s an enigma, too. It’s hard to sort rumor from fact when I don’t know enough about him to do so.
So, I’ll shove pad Thai in my face until I figure it out.
There’s a knock on the door just as I crack the top to my take out container. I set the food aside and rise, realizing there are no little packets of pepper sauce in my bag. The delivery guy must have realized it too, and come back.
I crack the door until it pulls on the security chain.
It’s not the delivery guy.
This man is wearing a black suit with a cap on his head. He’s old enough to be my father, but holds himself like second-hand royalty.
“Ms. Evans?” His voice is crisp, polite.
“Yes.” I think I’m about to be pranked.
He offers something through the opening. It’s a card envelope. “I’ll be waiting for you outside, madam.”
Quickly, I shut the door and rip open the envelope. The Rexford symbol graces the front.
A keycard tumbles out into my hand.
The penthouse key.
No more games. I want you, Juliet. This is the last time that I’ll try. Come to me.
Come to me? Oh my God. I’ve been thinking about him all day, in a way that’s different than before. I want to see beneath his exterior, to the layers that really make up Dominic Rexford.
But I also want the hot, dirty sex. I want it all.
It’s dangerous—playing with fire. He can consume me completely if I allow it. I no longer feel like just some random intern to him. It’s silly, but the sense that there’s something more to us won’t leave me alone.
I won’t know unless I take a risk. Unless I go to him.
I put my food away and head to my room. It feels surreal as I dig through my closet looking for something to wear. There’s nothing good, except the dress he’s already seen me in.
Why am I doing this?
I want him. Maybe even need him.
But not looking like this. I catch sight of myself in the mirror. My hair is a mess, my old clothes hang baggy. Sweatpants are fine for staying in on a Friday night, but I can’t go to the penthouse like this.
I wonder if I should raid Callie’s closet for another knock-‘em-dead outfit like the one I was wearing the night Dominic and I first met. But I don’t want to play a role again. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to go as myself.
Not the honeytrap sex kitten. Not the intern.
Me.
Pulling out a pair of my best jeans, I don them along with a shimmery olive green blouse. I smooth my hair with some gel and apply lip gloss. A little mascara. That’s it. I grab my jacket and bag, and head down to the limo waiting outside.
The driver opens the door for me, and I slide inside. My nerves are growing, and I go back and forth over my decision the entire ride to the Rexford. I barely notice the luxury of the limousine, or the glass of champagne on the table next to my seat. I ignore the lights of the city as we drive smoothly through the streets.
This is it. No turning back.
“We’re here, miss.”
I look up. We’ve pulled up outside the hotel. I’ve been so deep in my own indecision, I didn’t even notice the stop.
“Thank you.” I scramble out. I’ve entered the hotel dozens of times, but now it’s different. As the doorman holds the glass door open, I realize, I’m not an intern tonight.
I’m just another guest, someone who can live a fantasy.
If I choose.
Glancing around as I walk to the elevators, I pray that I won’t see anyone who might recognize me. I don’t, and gratefully let the elevator swallow me. I go up… up, up, and my nerves grow.
I don’t want to be someone else.
But if I do this, if I get more deeply involved with Dominic, will it change me? How will I ever go back to the person I was?
It’s not just about my career, but my heart.
The elevator opens but I hold the door, uncertain if I should get out – or head right back downstairs and home again. I’m not naïve, I know myself well enough to be aware of how deeply I come to care about people.
I can’t give my body to him without offering up my feelings too. And giving him that power, it scares me a little.
But what if I never know for sure?
With stiff legs, I walk to the penthouse door and reach for the key card. One slip of plastic, yet it’s so very heavy in my palm.
It’s risky and I might pay for it later.
I take a deep breath. Close my eyes.
And decide.
I can never say thank you enough to all the readers, new friends, and bloggers who have helped spread the word about my book, but I’ll give it a try. Thank you a million times for all your excitement, support and tips for this newbie. I couldn’t have done it without you. Special thanks to Candi Kane at Dirty Laundry Review for making me LOL every day and for keeping things dirty. Xo, Lola
To be continued…
What will Juliet pick? The story continues in THE HOTEL 2, out JULY 15th.
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Chapter Twelve
Dominic Rexford is so close.
My boss is on the other side of this penthouse door. My sexy, dangerous boss. And I can have him – I can have every one of his tempting promises. All I have to do is swipe the keycard and step inside.
No more games. I want you, Juliet.
I shiver remembering the lust in his voice when he delivered his final ultimatum. I picture him inside, his shirt unbuttoned over that muscular body, tie loose around his neck. Stepping over this threshold is the biggest risk I’ve ever taken. My whole future is on the line. He could ruin all my plans, or make them come true in ways I never imagined.
I take a deep breath. Close my eyes. And swipe the card.
I push the door wide and go in before I can change my mind. I’ve never been up here before: this is the Rexford suite, for VIPs only. Now, I drink in every detail. The softly lit foyer spills into a wide, airy living room with an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. I take in the luxurious leather furniture and marble fireplace, but then I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, and everything falls away.
It’s him. Dominic. Walking toward me, a champagne flute in each firm hand.
My pulse kicks. Damn, he’s hot in his white dress shirt and tie, looking at me like he wants to devour me just like my sexy premonition. But even my imagination couldn’t capture how good he looks.
Powerful. Devastating.
Smug.
“I’m glad you came.” His smile is satisfied, like he just won a bet. But I guess he did, because I’m here, despite everything that’s happened. “Drink?”
I nod, suddenly nervous. His dark eyes rake over me as he hands me a glass. I tip it up and take a quick gulp, and warmth spreads through me: from the champagne, and the heat in his appraisal.
“You took your time.” Dom’s eyes darken just a little. I feel a surge of victory. Maybe he wasn’t so sure I’d make it. I decide to tease him, just a little.
I shrug, taking another sip. “I didn’t realize we were on the clock.”
Dom surveys me. “The limo was to your liking?”
“It was fine.”
“And the suite?” he gestures around.
I give another shrug, like it isn’t the most luxurious room I’ve ever been in. “It’ll do.”
His lips quirk in a smile. “I thought you’d like it.”
I give a flirty smile. “Have this all planned out, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“You knew I would come.”
This man doesn’t hesitate, not for a second. “Yes.”
His confidence wou
ld be infuriating if it wasn’t so damn sexy. I take a breath, trying to steady myself. Already, my nerves are thrumming in anticipation for his touch.
“You always get what you want, right, Dominic? Must be rough.” I place my glass down and saunter past him to the windows, playing it cool.
He follows, stepping in close. His breath is hot against the back of my neck as he answers. “This is what you want too, Juliet. Don’t try and deny it. Not now.”
He’s right. I made my choice back in the hallway. Hell, that’s not even true. I made my choice the minute Dominic Rexford put his hands on me. I could have walked away a dozen times since then, and we both know it. No matter the risks, I can’t seem to stay away from him.
Why fight it anymore? Why not just surrender to this incredible connection?
Dominic slips his arms around me, running his hands gently down my bare arms.
I squeeze my thighs against the blossom of heat between my legs and make one last-ditch effort for the upper hand. I nod out at the gorgeous night skyline, Chicago lit up in the dark. “To tell the truth, I really only came for the view.”
A low rumble comes from his throat. “It’s very nice.”
Dominic leans in and brushes his lips to my neck. His fingertips are still tracing lightly along my arms and stomach. I sink back against him as the pleasure shivers through me, fighting to keep still. His hands rove over me, moving to my breasts, so soft, only a whisper of sensation.
I feel it everywhere.
God, this man. He can turn me on in an instant, make me wet and aching for him.
I hold out as long as I can against his soft seduction, then I break. I turn, reaching for him, needing him hard against me. But Dom is already one step ahead: he pulls me in, kissing me hard as he crushes me to his muscular frame.
Yes. This is exactly what I came here for.
I reach up to loop my hands around his neck, needing something solid to hold onto as his lips devour me. His hands cup my face, he pulls my lower lip between his teeth, his tongue demanding mine. Or am I demanding him? I lose track of everything as we feast on each other.
Dominic winds my hair in his fingers and tugs, pulling my head back. I gasp at the dominance. “Dominic…” I whisper as he kisses down my neck.
“No,” he murmurs against my skin. “Don’t say my name. I want you to scream it.”
He lifts me in one swift move. I cling on tight, my legs going around his waist, my hands gripping his bare shoulders. He kisses me again, effortlessly carrying me through the suite. My blood is racing, and the tension is throbbing low and warm inside me by the time we reach the bedroom and he sets me down.
“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined you here?” he growls. “Your gorgeous tits bare, your legs spread wide for me?”
My eyes go to the bed. It’s massive, an antique four poster, king-sized at least.
Dominic takes my chin in a firm but gentle grip and turns my head back to him, so I can see the intensity in his gaze. “I get hard every damn time I think about you, Juliet. This afternoon in my office, I wanted to rip your shirt open and press you against the glass so the entire street could see me fucking you.”
My breath stills. “Why didn’t you?” I whisper, imagining it.
Dom smiles down at me. A powerful, controlled look. “Because this time, you’re going to give me everything I want.”
He traces my jaw, then slides his thumb in my mouth. I can taste him, feel the rough pad of his finger invading me. It’s so incredibly erotic that I gasp, breathless. We lock eyes.
And then I suck.
Dominic groans. He backs away and sits on the edge of the bed. He loosens his tie, and begins to unbutton his shirt.
“Strip,” he commands.
One word, said so powerfully.
I don’t even think about it as I take hold of the hem of my shirt. I raise the fabric and shiver against the cool air that drifts over my stomach. Higher, higher, I slowly pull it over my head until I’m left in just my black lace bra.
Dominic’s eyes go dark. He twists his tie tight between his hands. I realize who has the power right now, and it’s not him. It’s me.
I let my shirt drop to the floor.
Slowly, I undo the button on my jeans. Looking up at him through lowered lashes, I rotate my hips a little—slowly at first. Then, with more purpose as I lower the zipper and see how hard Dominic swallows. I sway my hips and arch my back just enough to thrust my breasts out as I edge down the waist of my jeans.
Below my hip bones. Below the strings of my thong.
Dominic’s nostrils flare a bit as he winds the tie completely between his fists until his knuckles turn white.
I leave my jeans low on my hips and run my hands over my waist. Up my ribs to cup my breasts, before gliding up my neck and lifting my hair. He gets off the bed with a groan. Sexual tension rolls off him as he reaches for me, and it only makes my need worse.
He picks me up and throws me down on the bed, crushing me with a kiss. He yanks my jeans off in one move, then unhooks my bra. In seconds, I’m nearly naked, laying in front of him on the bed.
“I fantasized about this, too.” Dom takes my wrists in one hand and then uses his tie to secure them to the headboard. He binds me loosely, as if he’s asking permission and giving me an easy out all in one swoop. I’m glad. I’ve never been tied up before, but already, it’s making me weak with desire. “My Juliet, totally at my mercy.”
His hand slides over my breasts and down my belly, teasing me until his fingers finally slip beneath the waist of my panties.
“Spread your legs, Juliet.”
I do, arching my back, wanting him to touch me.
“Good girl. So good.”
He leans over me, his lips closing over my nipple as his fingers delve into my panties. My eyes roll back from the burst of sensation that shoots through me. His fingertips graze against my clit, but it’s not enough. Spreading my legs wider, I whimper a little. Still, Dom torments me: stroking softly over my clit, skimming over my aching pussy, but never touching hard enough; deep enough.
I’m going crazy here. I want him inside me when I come, want to feel his body on mine, his taste in my mouth.
“Don’t go slow,” I beg, wound to breaking point. “Don’t tease. Please, just fuck me.”
He moves to the other nipple and pulls it between his teeth. “Maybe I want to tease you.”
“Next time.”
He breathes a laugh and drops kisses down my body. He’s not going to give me what I want. But he’s going to give me everything I need.
Dominic yanks my panties down and settles between my thighs. I start to close my eyes, but I want to watch him. My hands are bound, I can’t touch him, but I can see.
He dips into my tight, slick opening, slowly sinking his finger inside me.
“God, yes,” I moan.
He parts me, his breath so hot against my damp skin as he moves closer. My body is quivering with anticipation, my clit begging for his touch. I open my eyes—
And let out a scream.
There’s a man standing behind Dom, lounging in the doorway with his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face.
“Dom!” I slam my thighs together, almost crushing him. He turns. For a split second, he freezes—shocked like me—before pulling back.
“What the hell!” His voice rings out in anger. He grabs the comforter and throws it over my naked body.
“Please, don’t stop on my account.” The man saunters over to the bed. “I was rather enjoying the view.”
I yank free from the restraints and clutch the bedcovers to me. I recognize him: he’s the guy who was flirting with me at the front desk the other day!
Dominic points to the door. “Get the fuck out, Xander.”
Xander?
I realize who this intruder must be. Alexander, Dominic’s wandering, playboy, yacht-racing brother.
“Bad timing, big brother?” Xander’s eyes fall to me, his mouth curvi
ng into a cocky smirk. “Well, maybe for her. Sorry, love.”
Oh God. Humiliation slams through me. How long was he watching us?
Dominic shoves Xander back. “Out. Now.”
He hustles Xander out of the room. I quickly grab my clothes from the floor and pull them back on as fast as I can. Shit. Shit!
When I nervously edge into the living room, the brothers are in the middle of a heated conversation.
“What are you doing here?” Dominic’s voice is low, threatening.
Xander’s eyebrows shoot up. “You didn’t answer my calls, so I figured I’d stop by.”
Dominic grabs Xander’s shoulder. He says something that I can’t hear.
Xander sighs dramatically. “It’s getting harder to protect your throne, isn’t it?” His gaze goes to me. “I’m sorry, we weren’t introduced properly. Xander Rexford, at your service.”
I stay frozen in place. “Umm, Juliet.”
“How tragic,” Xander smirks. Then I see it, the resemblance, the same superior confidence that Dom possesses.
“You should go.” Dominic doesn’t look at me. He’s fixed on his brother, fury in his gaze.
“Don’t leave on my account,” Xander exclaims. “Please, stay, you looked like you were having fun.”
Could this get anymore humiliating?
“Juliet,” Dominic barks. “Leave, now!”
I flinch. A moment ago, he was telling me I was all he wanted, now I’m being ordered out of his sight like I’m some servant at his beck and call. Or his employee. Which technically I am. Shit. “Fine.”
I stalk past them, trying to hold my head high, trying to ignore the sting of Dominic’s rejection and the utter embarrassment of his brother finding us like that on the bed. I can’t imagine ever getting over it. Remembering the keycard in my jeans’ pocket, I lay it on the buffet in the entry. The door clicks softly behind me, feeling final.
What the hell just happened?
Chapter Thirteen
“Juliet, get up!”
Something whaps me on the head, once, twice. I bolt upright to find Callie sitting beside me, a newspaper rolled in her hand.
“What am I, a bad dog?”
“Yes,” she quips and flattens the paper. Thrusts it at me.
