I wrap my arm around her shoulder, squeezing her close to me as we emerge onto the street, lit by the street lamps and the gazing stars.
“That was amazing,” Tess says, as we wait on the curb for the valet to bring the car.
She turns to me, so gorgeous in that red dress I could roar out in possession. I knew I picked right the second I saw her, the fabric hugging lusciously and deliciously onto curves that are made for me and me alone.
“I don’t want to say I’m sorry for being a crybaby back there,” she murmurs, shooting me a playful look. “Because I know what you’re like about the S-word. But I do want to acknowledge – not apologize – that breaking down like that on our first proper date isn’t exactly hot, you know.”
I grab her and pull her to me with the ferocity of the unchained animal I am. I take her lips and make them mine. I kiss her like she’s the last woman alive—because she is, to me.
To me, she’s the only woman in existence.
She moans and gasps into the kiss, and I let myself sink into it since the outside of the restaurant is quiet and we haven’t got an audience. I slide my hands down to her hips and then have to forcibly stop myself because even if we’re relatively alone, I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.
Resisting her is fucking impossible.
She licks her lips, driving me insane with the movement. Then my black sedan pulls up and the valet steps out. I take the keys and hold the door open for Tess, laughing when she says, “Oh, what a gentleman.”
I climb into the driver’s seat and pull away.
A savage chord strikes within me when she reaches across and shyly places her hand on my leg, moving it up slowly, even as I can sense her nervousness telling her to stop.
But I’m beginning to sense that she’s working past that, that she’s smashing through the barriers that tell her she has to be in the passenger seat all the time … even if she is in the passenger seat right now.
“What’re you doing?” I growl, gripping the steering wheel hard as she inches closer and closer to my rock solid manhood.
“What I want,” she whispers.
“And what do you want, Tess?”
“I want … Oh, God, I don’t want to go home, not yet. Do you know what I’m trying to say?”
I bring the car to a stop on the side of the road, causing Tess to laugh and glare at me. “Hey, what the heck was that about?”
“I’m turning us around,” I growl, backing the car up. “And I’m taking us to a hotel suite befitting the queen you are. You’ve said it now, Tess. You want it. And I’m not gentleman enough to second guess you. But you better take your hand away.”
“Why?” she sasses.
“Because otherwise, I’ll be taking your virginity right here.”
She withdraws her hand with a pout. “Sometimes I feel like you’re making that up, you know, how hot you find me.”
I smirk and shake my head in disbelief. “Take a look at my crotch, Tess, and tell me if I’m making that up.”
She giggles and the sound is like music as I drive, guiding us through the city toward downtown, stopping when I see the glittering sign for Abode, one of the fanciest hotels in the city.
I come to a stop outside the entrance and a valet approaches us, asking if we have a booking. I take fifty dollars from my wallet and hand it to him.
“We will in about two minutes,” I tell him.
The valet grins, a teenager with a smattering of acne across his neck. “You got it,” he says, grinning even wider as his eyes devour the fifty dollars. “You have a nice evening.”
I loop my arm around my woman’s waist and guide her into the large glass double doors of the hotel, the lobby all sleek marble and huge stylish rugs. I approach the desk, feeling like the proudest motherfucker in the world when I see head turnings to drink in Tess in her red dress.
She really has no idea how curvaceously gorgeous she is.
“We’d like a room for the night,” I tell the receptionist, a thin man with a hipster mustache who glances at me like I’ve gone mad.
“A room … for tonight?” he says. “Have you got a booking?”
“Nope,” I say.
“I’m afraid all our rooms are booked up, sir. That is, except for the presidential suite—”
“You’re in luck, then,” I say. “Because the presidential suite is exactly what I want.”
The man narrows his eyes. “It’s thirteen thousand dollars for the night.”
Tess gasps beside me, her hand tightening on my side where our arms are wrapped around each other.
“Tanner, you don’t have to …”