Revved

Yeah, I’m kind of there right now.

I’m actually starting to wonder if this is the Carrick Ryan—famed womanizer—sitting beside me, or some testosterone-missing clone put in his place. He’s not behaving like the same guy I was just kissing at the party.

By the time the car pulls up outside our hotel, I’m about sixty percent sure that I’ll back out of having sex with him.

But…I just keep getting flashes of him kissing me, and I can still taste him on my tongue and smell his aftershave on my skin. It keeps swaying me back to keeping my mouth shut and to just go with the flow.

We climb out of the car. Carrick places his hand on my lower back, guiding me inside the hotel. Okay, here’s something. It might be the smallest of touches, but it feels like the most intimate.

And I’m right back to the awesome.

When we reach the elevators, he guides me into a waiting one. Once safely inside, he presses the button for his floor.

I watch as the door slides shut, and my heart starts to race at the knowledge that we’re finally going to be alone.

This is it. He’s going to ravish me the second those doors slide closed, shutting the rest of the world out.

Only…they’re shut now. The lift’s ascending, and he hasn’t made a move, not a frigging move.

Okay, what the hell is going on?

I saw him in China…with that woman. The thought of it makes me want to vomit. But his hands were everywhere. Everywhere! He was all over her like white on rice, but with me, nothing. Not a bloody thing!

He definitely fancies me. That I do know. So, why?

Maybe he just thought she was hotter than me. Maybe she got him hotter than I do.

Oh God. Now, I definitely do feel sick.

Should I do something? Make a move? Does he want me to be more sexually forward? Maybe that’s what gets his motor revving. I just always got the impression that Carrick is all about being in charge, alpha to the max, but maybe I’m wrong.

I glance across at him, trying to get a read on him, and see that his hands are flexing restlessly at his sides. As my eyes slide from east to west, I catch sight of a definite bulge straining against his zipper.

Okay, so he’s still hard for me. Then, why? I just don’t get it.

Oh God. Maybe he’s changed his mind. He might be hard because he’s a sex maniac, but he might have realized that this isn’t a good idea with us being friends and me working for him, and he doesn’t know how to tell me.

Mortification starts to lick my skin.

Okay, I have to say something before my head explodes.

“Carrick…” My voice carries loud in the quiet confines of the elevator. “Look, if you’ve changed your mind about this—you and me—it’s fine.” Well, it’s not fine. I’ll probably die of humiliation and never be able to look him in the face again. But what else can I say? Please shag me out of pity? Not likely. “I mean, it’s probably not a good idea for us to sleep togeth—”

The rest of my words are yanked from my mouth as I’m wrenched up hard against his body. Then, I’m spun around, none too gently, and pinned against the wall.

Grabbing my hand, he presses it against his straining zipper. “Does this feel like I’ve changed my mind?”

My breathing hitches, and my heart starts to pound against my ribs. “N-no,” I stammer.

My fingers curl around his cock on instinct.

A hiss escapes him, his eyes closing, as he rests his forehead against mine. “So, why the fuck would you ask me that?”

“Because, in China, when I saw you with that woman in the elevator, you seemed…more into her.” I cringe on the last part. Ugh, I hate how vulnerable I sound and that he’s seeing how much that night affected me.

“Jesus…Andressa.” Moving his head back, he takes my face in his hands, his eyes burning mine. “You think because I’m not nailing you in this elevator right now that I don’t want you?”

“I don’t know. It’s stupid. Just forget I said anything.”

I try to move away, but he’s not letting me go anywhere.

His eyes turn dark and serious. “You couldn’t be more wrong. I want you so fucking badly that I can’t see straight. I haven’t been able to since the moment I laid eyes on you. That’s the fucking problem. You think I wanted her more than I do you? I didn’t want her at all. I wanted you then and every day before and every day since. All I want is you. I was holding back just now—and trust me, it’s been taking every ounce of strength I have to do so—because you deserve better than me feeling you up in an elevator.” He runs his thumb over my lower lip, his eyes darkening further.

“You’re worth so much more.” He replaces his thumb with his lips, giving me the softest of kisses, sucking gently on my lower lip, making my body go lax. “But if I’d known for one second that it would make you think this way, then I’d have done whatever you wanted me to.” Another butterfly kiss. “I’d have fucked you in here.” And another. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want me to.” One more. “And then, I’ll take you to my bed and fuck you all night long.”

Sweet baby Jesus. What the hell am I supposed to say to that?

The elevator comes to a stop on his floor, the door opening.

“So, what’s it gonna be? Are we starting in here or in my bed?”

I stare at him. So many thoughts and emotions are running through my mind, but I don’t know which to grab a hold of first.