Stone

By the time I boarded the plane on Saturday morning, I was in full game mode. Well, with one exception. I couldn’t stop thinking about Savannah. In fact, during the entire flight I thought of little else besides her.

More accurately, I can’t seem to get her off my mind. I’ve relived the night we met over and over again, then I started fantasizing about all the dirty things I want to do to her the next time I get her in my bed. It probably hasn’t helped that I haven’t heard from her since Thursday night. And no, the email she sent me with the list of questions she approved for the reporters doesn’t count.

I thought for sure I would have a chance to talk to her during the flight, but my plans were shot to hell when I saw her sit with her father. Not like I could waltz up and steal her away. That would be far too obvious.

So, I sat in the back of the plane next to Snyder. Thankfully, he isn’t a chatty one and neither of us really spoke, choosing instead to listen to music and doze.

However, now that we’re in the hotel, I’m pacing my room, debating shooting Savannah a text and asking if I can meet up with her.

“Damn it,” I grumble, snatching my phone off the dresser.

I pull up her name in my text messaging app, my fingers hovering over the screen.

What the hell am I supposed to say?

And why the fuck am I so damn nervous?

This is ridiculous. I haven’t been this nervous about a girl since I took Laurelin Howard to the homecoming dance my freshman year of fucking high school.

I’m too damned old to get nervous.

Deciding to go for casual, I type: Hey. Saw you on the plane.

Oh, great. Now I’m Captain Obvious, too.

I delete the text, then inhale deeply, exhaling slowly.

“Come on, Stone,” I mutter.

I type again.

Wondered if you’d like to grab some dinner.

I delete that too because…well, because it sounds stupid.

Doesn’t it?

Interested in trying on that cheerleading outfit? I’ve got time to kill.

Yeah. No.

I’m just about to type some more nonsense when my phone buzzes in my hand. I toss the damn thing into the air and fumble to catch it, failing miserably.

“Good damn thing you’re not a receiver,” I chastise, grabbing it from the floor.

Savannah. You busy?

What the hell? If I had said something like that, she would’ve had some sort of smartass retort.

And I’ve got nothing. So I go with: No. You?

If I was, I wouldn’t have texted.

Some grinning emoji follows the text and I flop down onto the bed.

Right. Sorry.

I stare at the phone as though by sheer force of will I’m going to get her to text me faster.

She doesn’t text back immediately, which only makes me feel like an idiot.

I’m still staring at my phone when there’s a knock on the door. Without looking away from the screen, I walk over, grab the door handle, and pull it open. When I finally glance up, I find Savannah standing in the hall, staring back at me with a huge grin on her beautiful face.

“Figured it’d be easier to just talk to you.” Her eyes trail down the hall, left, then right. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” I feel like an idiot now, but I manage to step back out of the way.

Once she’s in the room, I close the door. As I turn around to face her, I start with “What’s—” but that’s as far as I get before the woman plasters herself to my front and her mouth is on mine. Or maybe I’m the one kissing her. Shit, I don’t know, but I really don’t give a damn who’s to blame because Savannah Andrews is in my arms, her mouth crushed to mine, her tongue sliding confidently against mine.

Holy fuck.

The next thing I know, I’ve got her backed against the door and her hands are in my hair, holding my head down to hers while I practically devour her. It’s all I can do to keep my hands from roaming any farther than her hips. This is a side of Savannah I only got a brief glimpse of the other night and never had I thought we’d be doing this again.

Oh, I’ve wanted to. Ever since the first time I kissed her, but I honestly felt she was tossing me into the client zone. Which is the very reason I’ve been hesitant to proceed.

When we break for air, I drop my forehead to hers, my eyes closed.

“Hi,” she says softly, a smile in her voice.

“Back atcha.” My voice is rough, as though I just gargled glass.

“I’m sorry I practically attacked you, but…”

I pull back enough that I can look in her eyes. Her beautiful bright green eyes. “But what?”

“I have honestly no idea what I’m doin’ here, Stone. I know I shouldn’t, but…”

There she goes again, leaving me hanging with a but.

I wait this time, hoping she’ll continue.

Savannah shakes her head, but she’s still smiling. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

“Really?” I do my best not to sound surprised, I go for a cocky, teasing tone, but I’m not sure how well I fare in that regard.

“Yes. Really. And it’s absurd, I know.”

“Definitely not absurd,” I tell her before leaning down and fusing my lips to hers once more.

When she sighs into my mouth, I realize that this thing between us is definitely not going to remain in the friend/client zone for long.

And I can’t be upset by that.

Savannah

I am going to sleep with Jason Stone again.

Wait.

No, I’m not.

That isn’t the reason I’m here, although now that I am, it seems like a pretty damn good excuse. The way his big hands curl around my hips, his thumbs pressing gently against the sensitive flesh over my hip bones, makes it rather difficult to think.

Truthfully, I have no idea why I’m in Jason Stone’s room.

I tried to tell myself I was going to come here so we could talk about…I was hoping to come up with something. However, I knew full well that once I got here, business was going to be the last thing I had on my mind.

I was right.

As soon as I saw him, my body heated at least ten degrees and I was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him.

And now I’m still kissing him. Or rather, he’s kissing me because no way can I claim that this incredible feeling is my doing. I knew this man would be dangerous, but I never thought he’d be capable of taking over my every thought. Yet, he has.

“Have you had dinner?” he asks when he pulls back.

I shake my head.

“Are you hungry?”

I look up and meet his eyes. “Yes,” I admit. “But not for food.”

It takes a second for him to realize what I said, but I see the instant that it clicks in his brain. A rough growl escapes him and the next thing I know, I’m in his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist, our mouths once more melding together.

Then we’re on the bed and I’m holding him to me, refusing to let him go.

I’ve turned into some sort of hormone-driven hussy, but I can’t help it. Seriously. I’m so overwhelmed by this man, I can’t think of anything but him.

It’s actually starting to drive me crazy.

Hence the reason I’m here.

I want to get him out of my system so I can move on, so we can resume a business relationship and find a way to be friends.

And yes, I’ve thought about the repercussions of this decision but I haven’t yet come up with a reason why we can’t fuck like rabbits, enjoy some intense orgasms, release some seriously pent-up sexual frustration.

Okay, fine. I’ve spent so much time thinking about this, the sexual frustration has hit an all-time high. Sure, it’s not logical, but…so what?

Scratching an itch is as old as time. Men and women have been doing it for centuries. Why can’t I? I mean, come on. What sane woman wouldn’t jump at an opportunity to get Jason Stone naked?

Speaking of.

My body seems to be completely in charge, as seen by the way my hands have wandered beneath his shirt as I push the cotton higher on his chest. At least I have the sense to take my time, allowing my palms the opportunity to get acquainted with the rocky ridges of his abs, the hard planes of his chest.

“Sit up,” I urge, hating that I had to stop kissing him to say it.

Jason frowns, but he inches back, kneeling between my thighs.

I sit up instantly, shoving his T-shirt higher, revealing…

Yum.

I momentarily meet his gaze before I let my eyes roam over the beautifully sculpted torso inches from my face. Unable to help myself, I lean in, pressing my lips to his sternum, then sliding my tongue along the groove between his pectorals.

This is the part we didn’t get to truly enjoy the first night. That had been all about quenching that ridiculous thirst. This time…I want to take my time.

Stone hisses, his big hand gently cradling the back of my head.

I want to lick every inch of this man. I want him to be my own personal playground for a little while. That’s not too much to ask, right?

Knowing my inner hussy has won this battle, I don’t question myself when my tongue slides over to his nipple. I gently nip the small, flat disc with my teeth, my pussy clenching when Stone growls in response. I do the same with his other nipple, pressing down a little more firmly with my teeth until his hand jerks behind my head, holding me tighter.

Just when I’m getting familiar with his taste, the hand in my hair tightens, pulling my head back. I have to admit, the slight tingle of pain that ignites in my scalp is pretty damn erotic. I’ve never had a man take control with me, not even a little. I’ve always been the one leading the charge. It’s the way I’m programmed, I guess.

To say that I’m more than a little turned on by the way he’s taking charge is an understatement.

Stone’s hand is still firmly twined in my hair when he lowers his head and kisses me. I allow my hands to grip his waist, his skin smooth and warm against my palms.

When I try to bite his lower lip, wanting more than what he’s giving me, he pulls his mouth from mine and hovers just out of reach. His dark eyes lock on mine, and I’m momentarily mesmerized by the desire I see there.

I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I can tell there’s a battle brewing in his head. Since I can’t simply sit here and not touch him, I slide my hands higher until I’m tweaking his nipples with my fingers and thumbs.

The next thing I know, Stone has my arms above my head, my wrists encircled by one of his big hands and he’s pressing me into the mattress.

It’s then that I notice I’m no longer in charge of the situation.

It’s then that I realize this man is going to command my complete surrender.

It’s then that I know Jason Stone is about to alter my way of thinking.

For whatever reason, I’m looking forward to it.

In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to something more.