I had a hint in the car that she might ask me up to her room. She took my hand as I pulled onto the highway, hoping I was driving straighter than it appeared I was, and pressed it to a swath of skin just above her knee. I glanced over at her and, as I did, she tugged at her skirt, pulling it higher on her thighs. I knew I wasn’t driving straight then. Who could follow a damn yellow line when a thigh as beautiful as that was suddenly revealing itself?

Somehow, I managed to get us back to the hotel parking lot without an accident or getting pulled over, slamming the damn thing into park the moment we came to a stop. I exchanged hands, forcing my left hand between her gorgeous legs while I buried the fingers of my right hand in her hair, jerking her head toward mine. That first kiss…damn! She tasted like tequila and old coffee, her lips soft as satin, her tongue more aware of itself than any tongue I’d ever had the pleasure of dancing with.

She pulled at my shirt, tugging it free of my jeans, her hands cool as they moved over my chest, my ribs. She squeezed her thighs together as I tried to reach for the prize, my fingertips barely brushing the soft cotton of her panties before she trapped them with her intensely powerful muscles. This woman had strength! It only served to turn me on so much more than she could ever imagine.

I pressed her back against the car seat, my hand switching tactics, moving under her skirt, but along her ass instead of between her thighs. Her panties were no obstacle, sliding easily out of the way as I forced my hand underneath. And she couldn’t squeeze her ass cheeks tight enough to keep me from finding my prize from that direction!

“Hell, Quentin!” she cried as my fingers found a moist place, a place that hid the one spot that had the potential of turning any woman, no matter how independent and strong she might be, into a mass of highly alert nerve endings. She moved her hips, her thighs parting slightly, giving me the access I needed to find that spot. And then she cried out, a shiver rushing through her from the tip of her toes to the ends of her hair.

I buried my mouth against her throat, taking great breaths of her scent, my tongue dancing against that silky skin as my senses went crazy with the taste of her. I wanted to taste every inch of her, wanted to feel every inch of her. I wanted to strip her bare in so many more ways than one, listen to her screams and know that I was the one responsible for them.

I wanted more than we could possibly do in the tight confines of this damn car!

“Let’s go upstairs,” I muttered against her ear.

She didn’t argue. In fact, she pulled her hand free of my shirt, tugging her skirt down as I quickly climbed out of the car and raced around to help her out. We probably looked quite a mess as we headed into the building, but we—fortunately—didn’t run into anyone. I expected to head to her door, but she turned toward mine when we reached our floor.

“You have condoms?” she asked as she twisted into my arms, her lips grazing my jaw.

“Definitely.”

We kissed as she fell back against the door, her arms wrapped around my neck. I wanted this more than anything I’d wanted in recent memory. The taste of her, the feel of her body pressed against mine, was so much better than anything I’d known before. I wanted her so desperately that I physically hurt with the need. But…

“Tell me you aren’t doing this because you’re drunk,” I said, pulling back enough to see her face. “Tell me you understand what you’re doing.”

“Oh, aren’t you cute!” She smacked the side of my face a little harder than she probably needed to. “I don’t think any other man I’ve been with would have given a shit at this point.”

“I do.” I pressed her hard against the door, holding her away from me with a hand on her jaw to keep her from kissing me again. “Tell me you’re okay with this.”

“I am more than okay with this,” she said, pulling my hand from her jaw with both of hers. “I want you, Quentin. God help me, but I want you.”

That was all I needed to hear. I kissed her again, forcing her back against the door as I touched and tasted and teased everything I possibly could. It was a long moment before it occurred to me to dig the key card out of my damn pocket and take us into the space where the massive king size bed was waiting for us.

She fell back and laughed even as I caught her. I lifted her up, slamming the door closed with a foot as I carried her to the bed. She laughed again when we fell onto the mattress, lost for a moment in the fluff of comforter and pillows and the soft pillow top of the mattress.

“I want you,” I said against her mouth, my hands tugging at that dress, trying to find a way to make it disappear while I explored her perfect mouth a little more. She tugged at my clothes, too, yanking my shirt painfully over my head, a few of the buttons flying free under the pressure. And then her hands were on my jeans, tugging and pulling, desperately trying to get to what hid inside.

“Slow down,” I said, tugging her hands away.

But I was doing the same thing, trying to get to all those private places that were hidden under her tight dress. She finally pushed me away, struggling into a sitting position before tugging the dress up over her head. It was a show. I sat back, intending to take my boots off, but unable to take my eyes off her. The bra came second, her hands moving deftly behind her back, one arm covering her full breasts as the other freed itself from the contraption. She hid herself again as she switched arms, clearly aware of the suspense she was creating.

“Take off your pants,” she demanded as she held her bra in place with just the pressure of her arm. “Let me see you.”

“I want to see you.”

She slid across the bed, climbing to her feet, the bra falling to the floor. But her back was to me as she went to the closet and pulled the doors open, looking for something she didn’t ask about.

“What are you doing?”

“Take off your pants!” she cried.

Not quite sure what was happening, I turned my attention to my boots, yanking them from my feet before slipping off my socks. My father never talked to me about sex, except to say that it was tacky to leave my socks on. Great advice from the old man.

I stood and jerked my jeans from my hips with my briefs, kicking it all aside as I heard the slight squeak of the bed as she climbed back on. I started to turn, but the room suddenly went dark as she slipped something over my eyes, tying it tight enough to make me see stars for a second as the weight of the object pushed against my eyeballs.

“What are you doing?”

I reached up, tried to release the blindfold, but she pulled my arm down.

“Want to play a game?”

“Malaika…”

But she was already pulling me back onto the bed, forcing me onto my back. Something stiff wrapped around my wrists, locking them above my head. I tugged a few times, but couldn’t pull them free.

“I’m not really into the whole BDSM scene.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, her lips near my ear, “neither am I.”

She brushed her lips against mine. I tried to kiss her, but she was already moving away, her lips slipping over my chin and down my throat, the heat of her breath burning life into my erection that the restraints had taken away. I lay still, following her path down my body with just the heat of her touch and the tingle of pleasure that came with every nerve ending that stood up and responded. When she reached my lower belly, her tongue dancing around my navel with this fantastic little movement and her breasts dangling, brushing against my flesh with just the tips of her erect nipples…I couldn’t help the groans that slipped from between my lips.

I wanted to touch her. I pulled at the restraints, but whatever she’d used, they held tight.

I thought for a moment she was going to do something intense with her mouth, but she slipped around my erection and worked her way down my thighs, moving across my knees and slowly down to my ankles. I’d never had a woman kiss my legs like that, never had a woman care much about my legs except from the perspective of what they could do to increase hip movement. But Malaika was doing to me what I’d so desperately wanted to do to her. She was exploring every inch of me, finding all those places that created pleasure and those places that created the right sort of pain.

And she was finding them.

I twisted my hips. I kicked my legs. I did everything I could to get her to the places that felt the best and away from the places that didn’t. But she was patient, moving away from me when I bucked and waiting until I was still before continuing. It was torture, the most divine torture I’d ever experienced.

It seemed like hours passed, or minutes. I wasn’t sure which. Her hands moved over me, her nails scraping my skin here and there, tweaking one nipple, scratching across a ticklish rib. She was clearly enjoying herself, but I couldn’t imagine she was getting much pleasure out of it. But then she pressed two fingers into my mouth, and I found myself wondering if she was getting all the pleasure out of this.

And then the sound of the condom wrapper tearing sent my mind into overdrive.

“Let me go! I want to touch you!”

“No, baby.” She brushed her lips against mine. “Not yet.”

“Please! I want to touch you! I want to see you!”

Rather than answer, she placed that condom where it belonged, her fingers gentle as they moved over that most sensitive part of me for the first time. I closed my eyes despite the blindfold and gritted my teeth, holding back the cries of pleasure that lived deep in my chest. I pulled at the restraints, felt them biting into my wrists and didn’t care. I twisted my head, trying to free my eyes from the blindfold, but it didn’t budge.

“Be good,” she said, leaning close to me, “and we’ll both get what we want.”

I lay still, the weight of her body pressing itself to my chest, my hips, waking an understanding deep inside of me. What I wanted was right there. I just had to hand her every bit of control I’d ever had—or imagined I’d had.

“Please, Malaika…”

She bit my bottom lip. Hard. I could taste blood when she pulled away.

The weight of her settled against my thighs. She stroked me over the condom, moving her hands slowly, driving me out of my damn mind! I moved my hips and she slapped my hip, forcing me to sit still. After a minute, I got the message. But it was nearly impossible not to respond to her touch.

It was fucking torture!

But then my reward came. I felt her tease herself, pressing my tip against her center, touching herself in that place that I’d played with in the car. I wanted to do it again, wanted to press a fingertip to that place and watch the pleasure dance in her eyes. But I was learning my lesson. I sat as still as I could, waiting for her to give me what I so desperately wanted: the release of her pleasure.

She made this deep, from the bottom of her soul, sort of sound as she finally settled her body on top of mine. I wanted so desperately to move my hips, but I didn’t. I lay still as she settled, as she waited for her body to adjust to mine. And then I stayed still as she began to find a rhythm she liked, as she rocked her own hips slowly and deep against mine. She knew what she wanted, knew what made her feel the most. What made her feel the most did wonders for me, too.

But staying still was going to kill me!

“Please!”

She leaned close, her lips pressed against mine as she continued to move her hips, pleasuring herself with an intensity that was driving me out of my damn mind! I tugged at the restraints again, moved my head to free myself of the blindfold. She didn’t chastise me this time. The moans slipping from her lips made it pretty clear that she was a little busy.

All I could do was lie there, lie there and feel her movements, listen to her pleasure.

It wasn’t all bad.

She caught me off guard when she suddenly freed me. The room was too bright when she came into view. That didn’t stop me from taking what was mine. I sat up and wrapped my arms around her, guiding her to the mattress as I took the dominant position.

“Yes, Quentin!”

I thrust so hard against her I might have done more than pleasure her, but she didn’t seem to mind. She wrapped her body around me and buried her nails into my flesh, begging me with her moans, with her touches, to fuck her. And then with her words.

“Yes, baby! Right there!”

I was out of my mind. It was the most sensuous experience I’d ever had in all my life. I pounded against her for so long…it felt like forever. Long enough to watch her jump over that cliff more than once. And then I followed, and it was more than divine, more than mind-blowing. It was a night I knew I’d never be able to replicate.

This woman was more than my meager imagination had ever been capable of conjuring. She was every woman I’d ever been with, and every woman I ever would be with. She was exhausting and exhilarating and more than words could ever describe.

We lay tangled together when it was over, our bodies slowly recovering in the silence of the big room. I felt like I needed to say something, but no words would come, except:

“Thank you.”

She scraped a nail over my nipple. “You should get some sleep. We have a long weekend ahead of us.”

Was that a promise?

I was definitely taking it as one!