Room Service

by Jill Shalvis

  “Yes,” she shocked him by saying, reaching up, fisting her hand in his shirt, holding him over her, leaving him no choice but to look deep into her eyes. “Now. Please, now.”

  As if he could possibly resist. Bending, he kissed the heavy underside of her breast, licked his way to her nipple, and sucked it into his mouth.

  Crying out, she arched up again, reaching for him, her warm hand running up his torso and then down again, her fingers tracing the ridges of his ab muscles.

  With her breast in his mouth, her nipple pebbling against his tongue, and her hand warm and soft beneath his shirt now, he couldn’t have walked away to save his life. She murmured his name on a sigh as her hand stroked over his bare belly now, then lower, toying with the waistband of his jeans.

  It was both heaven and hell. Heaven because touching her like this, looking at her, felt so good. Too good. Hell because he already knew one time with her would never be enough.

  Knowing it, pushing it out of his mind, he slid his hand down the length of her arm, twining his fingers with hers, lifting her hand over her head so she couldn’t keep touching him, because if she did, this was going to be over before it started. Apparently with her, he couldn’t control himself. So he took her other hand, pulling it out from beneath his shirt, bringing it up, as well, squeezing lightly.

  Her response was a rocking of her hips, a soft wordless plea, which he answered with a kiss. Leaning over her, he opened his mouth on hers and claimed her as his.

  Hot, wet, deep, the kiss said it all, sending waves of need and desire to pool behind the buttons on his Levi’s.

  “Jacob,” she whispered into his mouth, her breath sweet and hot, the little catches in her throat the sexiest thing he’d ever heard, making him forget the suite, his job, her job, the reason they’d even met, making him forget everything but how soft and giving her mouth was, her tongue just a little shy until he coaxed her with his. It was a kiss that left him wanting a hell of a lot more than what he could get in this position.

  He broke contact, his body hardening even further at her low, mewling protest. Moving around from the side of the massage table to the foot, he put a hand on each of her hips and tugged, bringing her up flush against him, her legs sprawled, her black silk-covered crotch snug to his denim-covered one.

  Blinking up at him, she smiled, and if his heart hadn’t clutched hard before, it did now. She sat up and reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head, tugging him forward to catch his mouth with hers while her fingers danced over his flesh, making his muscles jerk and bunch with each stroke over his chest, over his stomach, then lower.

  Again she toyed with his waistband, and this time didn’t stop there, but pulled hard until the first button popped open. And then the next.

  His body surged; his toes curled. He was going to lose it before they’d even started, something that had never happened, even when he’d been young and extremely stupid. He was quickly spiraling out of control here, wanting nothing more than to sink hard and fast into her body, forget finesse.

  Again he bent over her, pressing her back to the table, stroking his hands up the undersides of her arms, bringing them back over her head, leaning down to kiss her long and hard, until he felt her writhing against him, until she was panting with the need for more, until she was lost in the passion. There. He had her now. He trailed hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down her torso, flicking his tongue over one nipple, then the other, swirling past her belly button, past the bunched-up clothes in his way.

  Standing between her legs as he was, she couldn’t close them, but given how she wrapped them around his hips, she didn’t seem to want to. He curled his fingers into the elastic strip of her bikini panties and tugged.

  They ripped free.

  At the sound of the silk giving way, she blinked up at him, and he thought, Now I’ve finally pushed her too far and she’ll shove me away. He was even braced for it, the apology ready on his tongue.

  Instead she arched up again, her bare flesh against his denim, and whispered, “Oh, please.”

  He looked down to where her legs were opened, wrapped around his hips.

  She was wet, and at the sight he groaned, slipping a finger into her.

  Her breath came in short, desperate pants that went into overdrive when he added a second finger, slicking his thumb over ground zero.

  “Jacob.” She sounded panicked, her hips oscillating. “Please…”

  “Come,” he murmured, watching his fingers sink in and out of her creamy heat. “I want you to.”

  She brought her hands down and gripped his, holding his thumb to the right spot, and as she cried out and began to shudder, he bent over her and drew a nipple into his mouth.

  It seemed to draw out her climax, or restart it. Watching her, listening to her, feeling her, made him crazy for her. While she was still lost in the throes, he shoved his jeans to his thighs and grabbed a condom from the still-opened drawer.

  She opened her eyes and wrapped her fingers around the biggest, hardest erection he’d ever had, leaving him to stifle his groan as he helplessly pushed into her hand. She squeezed, and stroked him, and somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized that she was wrestling his control from him again, and that he was powerless to stop her this time. Everything she was doing, every touch, every sound she made, every look she gave him, drove him closer and closer, until he was standing on the edge.

  She leaned in and kissed his pec, stroking him, and again his hips rocked to meet her, a base reaction he could no more have stopped than his next breath. Too good, this felt too good, and he was too far gone to be teased. He wanted to be inside her when he came. “Em.”

  Her busy fingers were exploring him, and there was a sexy little catch in her throat as she touched his body, as she looked up at him with everything she felt in her eyes. “Hurry, hurry, hurry,” she said. “Oh, please, hurry.”

  It was all far too much for his poor, aching body. Unbelievable as it seemed, she was going to take him right over the edge with nothing more than her touch. “Wait.” He heard the shocking desperation in his own voice. Later he could kick himself for letting it get so out of hand.

  For now he tore open the condom packet and did his best to get it on.

  Her fingers covered his. “You’re shaking,” she murmured.

  Yeah. Shaking. Shaken. To the bone.

  Pulling his head down, she smiled into his eyes, tugged a little harder and kissed his tense jaw. He figured if he got any more tense his teeth would shatter.

  Then she kissed her way to his ear. “I love your body,” she whispered, and gave a damp lick to his lobe, along his throat.

  He groaned. She was going to devour him. Kill him. “Em.”

  “I know,” she murmured softly, soothingly, cupping his face, touching her forehead to his.

  Christ. Tenderness. He didn’t want tenderness. It brought a shocking lump to his throat, and made his eyes burn. Unable to handle either, he pushed her back to the table. Grabbed her hips. Gave a hard yank so that her wet heat slid over him, making his vision double and his knees wobble again. “Hold on,” he grated out. “Goddamn it, hold on to me.”

  But she already was, and as he thrust hard into her body, she cried out, a sound of pleasure, of surprise, of need, her groan mingling with his.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered, and he did, leaning over her, thrusting inside her again as his mouth touched hers.

  Her body tensed. “Jacob…”

  “Again,” he demanded. “Come again,” he growled, holding on to her as she did just that, his name a sigh on her lips.

  He was lost then. Lost in her body, in the feel of her, lost in her eyes.

  Even as he was found.

  11

  MUCH LATER, JACOB WALKED Em to her hotel room. She didn’t know what she expected but it wasn’t for him to follow her inside.

  The light on her phone was blinking, so she picked it up to retrieve her messages, feeling a little self-conscious and a lot a
ware of the big, bad, silent man behind her, watching her every move.

  What they’d just shared had been so intense, she didn’t know how to react. Just remembering how she’d cried and panted, and damn it, begged, had the heat rushing to her face. Plus she was fairly certain she’d embedded her fingernails in his most excellent posterior, which meant that he had ten indentations in there.

  Did he even know? If he didn’t, surely he realized she’d bitten him on the shoulder in those last few seconds, when she’d practically burst out of her own skin. She’d left teeth prints; she’d seen it herself when he’d put his shirt back on.

  God. She’d turned into a wild animal.

  She had no idea how she was going to look him in the eyes ever again. You won’t have to tomorrow, when you leave. Her heart clenched at that but she ruthlessly shoved the thought aside as she accessed her messages. She had two, the first from a desperate-sounding Eric.

  “Your assistant has lost her mind,” he hissed. “She’s pounding on my room door, wanting in. Do you hear her?”

  Indeed Em could hear some sort of knocking.

  “I can see her through the peephole,” Eric said desperately. “And good Christ, you should see what she’s wearing. Nearly nothing, if you’re wondering!” His voice cracked. “I know I promised you I’d resist her but that was when she was drunk. She’s not drunk now, and I don’t think I’m going to stay strong, Em. Either call me and remind me why I’m not having sex with her, or don’t be upset at the consequences.”

  Click.

  Em stared at the phone and made a sound of worry. She’d wanted them to get back together, but only if they were both ready. The past few days had told her Liza wasn’t, and might never be. The fool.

  “What’s wrong?” Jacob asked.

  “Nothing.” Except her best friend was going to gobble up her other best friend, and then spit him out like yesterday’s trash. It was Liza’s MO: love them and leave them before they did the same to her.

  Until Eric, no one had ever gotten hurt.

  But now Liza had the poor man ensnared for the second time. Eric had a heart of gold behind all that sarcastic wit, and Em was worried.

  The next message was Liza herself. “Don’t bother coming down here and saving him,” she said. “I’ve got him right where I want him, and let me just say all these toys in the closets here at Hush are coming in handy.”

  Em listened to this and felt the impending train wreck.

  “I’ve found some silk scarves in the armoire here, and I don’t think they’re meant to wear for a walk in the park. I’ve got him tied to the bed. He’s a willing captive, though, so don’t worry. I’m going to take good care of him.”

  Click.

  Em hung up the phone and told herself they were both grown-ups. They could handle the consequences…

  “Em?”

  She turned to Jacob, and while she didn’t quite manage to look him in the eyes, she settled her gaze on his chest. “Liza has Eric tied up in his room. Literally.”

  His eyes heated.

  In response, something happened deep in her belly. To cover the confusing reaction, she laughed a little nervously. “What is it about this place? It brings out the animal in people.”

  “Is that what you think happened upstairs?” His voice was as intoxicating as whiskey. “The ambience got to us?”

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted.

  He came toward her, tossing her brown bag onto the table—she’d nearly forgotten her purchase!—and put his hands on his hips as he looked at her and said, “Again.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Again,” he said, and made her nipples hard and her panties wet.

  Yes. Oh, yes, she wanted him again.

  And again.

  But he was talking about right here, right now. She also wanted him tomorrow. And the next day. And, she was beginning to realize, the tomorrows after that.

  But what did he want? Certainly not that kind of tie, and knowing it should have given her pause, should have stopped her.

  It didn’t.

  Her heart nearly burst as she tossed her room key aside and flung herself at him, sighing with pleasure when he caught her up in his arms. She could feel the barely restrained need in him, and thought maybe, just maybe, he wanted more, too.

  It was enough for her.

  “Let me,” he said, dodging her fingers when she reached to get his shirt off. Instead he kissed her until she was dying for more, holding her hands behind her back while he decimated her with his mouth, his hands, his body.

  “Let me,” he whispered again, when finally, finally, he stripped her down to her skin. This time, he murmured with pleasure over every inch he uncovered, taking the time to touch her, to taste her.

  And then he just took her, which he did in the hot tub.

  “Again,” he repeated later when he took her on the counter.

  Then the rug on the floor.

  And then even later, on the chair by the window overlooking the bright lights of the city that never sleeps.

  They finally fell onto the bed somewhere around three, where Jacob pulled her against his warm, hard body and fell instantly asleep.

  She stared into his face, relaxed as he slept, and felt her heart click into place. She could love this man. She could love him forever, if he’d let her.

  But she already knew he wouldn’t. He might think he’d kept the reins tight on his emotions tonight, hiding from her how he was starting to feel, hiding his fear of letting go, of giving her control and losing his, but he hadn’t really kept a thing from her.

  A surge of emotion for him welled up and filled her heart and her eyes. Leaning in, she put her lips softly to his. “Night,” she whispered.

  He hummed in pleasure and tightened his grip on her without waking all the way. With a dreamy sigh, she snuggled in and let sleep claim her, too.

  AN ALARM WENT OFF and Jacob jerked awake. He was in a bed, a strange bed, with a delicious, warm, naked female body plastered to his side.

  Not just any bed, and not just any woman.

  Hush.

  Em.

  He had a handful of breast with a nipple pebbling in his palm, his other hand cupping a warm buttock. Nice. Rumbling approval deep in his throat, he rolled her to her back, settling his weight on her, thrusting a thigh high between hers to spread her for his pleasure.

  “The alarm,” she gasped.

  Reaching out, he knocked the clock to the floor and it went mercifully silent.

  “Auditions,” she mumbled, eyes still closed. “I have to—Ohmigod.”

  Having sucked a nipple into his mouth, he teased the tip with his tongue, smiling at her moan, at the way she clutched at him with her hands, her legs.

  “Jacob—”

  Lightly he bit down on her nipple, then flicked it with his tongue.

  Her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulder, her body arching up into him.

  Oh, yeah. Good. His slid his hand down her side, spreading his fingers wide to touch all that he could, her ribs, her belly, her hip. “Wait,” she gasped.

  He palmed her sweet ass, then dipped his fingers in—

  “Jacob.”

  For the first time he heard the tone in her voice. The reluctant tone. The tone he’d used often enough the morning after when he’d had enough of a woman and needed out.

  That was when he woke all the way up and smelled the news.

  She was done with him.

  She was done with him before he’d been done with her. That had never happened, not once, and a feather could have knocked him over he was so shocked. “Right.” Without looking into her eyes, he rolled off her and off the bed all in one move. Reached for his jeans.

  “Jacob.”

  Where the hell were his shoes?

  “Jacob.”

  “Don’t get up,” he said, shoving his legs into his jeans and grabbing his shirt. “I know my way out.”

  Did he ever. He always knew his way out, an
d was pissed he’d stayed.

  Sex with a woman, he could do that. He knew how to do it, extremely well.

  Sleeping with one, not so much. In fact, he rarely did it at all, and never on a woman’s turf.

  Seems he’d broken all his own rules last night.

  That’s what he got for thinking with the wrong head.

  The paper bag on the dresser mocked him. It was open, the packaging of the vibrator strewn over the glossy wood.

  They’d put that thing to some fun, sexy, outrageous use, and if his heart hadn’t been pounding heavily, uncomfortably, the memories of what they’d done would have made him smile.

  As it was, they made him hard.

  Because after her initial shyness, Em had gotten into it. Very into it. The batteries were close to dead.

  Damn, he was thinking again.

  He made it to the door before he felt her hand on his arm, trying to tug him around. He stared at his own hand on the handle. “Don’t, Em.”

  “Look at me,” she said softly, her hand rising to glide over his back. He felt his muscles quiver at the touch.

  “Please?” she whispered.

  Gritting his teeth, he turned only his head and met her eyes. They were deep and full not of discomfort or irritation at him still being here but hope and joy and, damn, that knee-knocking affection again.

  She hadn’t run off like a scared little bunny at the depths of his passion. Hadn’t run from anything he’d shown her, as he’d assumed—and half hoped—she would. He didn’t understand what drew him to her, why he suddenly wanted to toss her back into that bed and follow her down, why he wanted to keep her.

  Keep her.

  He couldn’t keep her. Even thinking it was the stupidest thought he’d ever had. He’d never managed to keep anything in his life, not a place, not a thing, and sure as hell not a person.

  “Last night,” Em said, searching his gaze for something, God knew what. “It was…different.”

  He let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah. I’m guessing not a lot of guys would take you to a porn shop.”