Damage Control - Page 49/83

Heat rushes through me. “You did.”

His eyes darken, then light with amber and blue. “I’m going to do it again.”

“Promise?”

He laughs, low and deep, then settles back in his seat and turns on the engine. “I promise, and I never break a promise.” And those words are the biggest seduction of all. A promise that is a promise. Someone I can really trust.

* * *

We pull out of the garage with a debate over pizza or Chinese, settling on Chinese, and Shane hands me his phone with the number for his favorite place in his directory.

“You must really love it,” I say to him.

“I do and so will you.” He winks. “I promise.”

I laugh, hitting the auto-dial, and oh how that wink from Shane manages to have my belly doing a flip-flop. He turns us on the road and I place our order, finishing up as we reach the door of the Four Seasons. Tai, my favorite doorman, greets us, eager to brag about his daughter’s restaurant making the food section of the newspaper.

“Emily has moved in with me,” Shane announces, wrapping his arm around me. “So take good care of her.”

Tai beams with this news. “Always. And just let me know when, I’d love to bring you dinner from my daughter’s restaurant to celebrate this weekend.”

Celebrate living with Shane. Who would have ever believed that my leaving Texas, and saying yes to a one-night stand with Shane, would lead here. “That would be amazing,” I say with approval, and Shane is quick to agree. It’s a good twenty minutes later when Shane and I step onto the elevator and he settles me in front of him, those wonderful hands of his resting on my hips, while his eyes promise me they will be many other places, soon. I’m pretty much melting by the time we exit and enter the apartment, Shane at my heels.

Before I can even turn, his hands are at my waist and he’s turning me, backing me against the wall in that dominant way of his, his powerful thighs framing mine. “I want that taste of you I didn’t get in that coffee shop.” And then he is on his knees, and my skirt is already at my waist. “Shane. The food.”

“I’ll make it fast, I promise.” He closes his hand around my panties and yanks. “Good thing you have on thigh-highs.”

“I was cold, actually,” I pant out for some silly reason.

His hands bracket my upper thighs. “I’ll warm you up.” He lifts my leg to his shoulder, and his thumb strokes my clit.

I pant again, my nipples tightening as if they were where he’s touching. He strokes two fingers across the seam of my sex, and there is no time for me to prepare myself before his tongue flicks my clit. I rest my head on the wall, hands pressed there as well, every muscle in my body waiting for what comes next, until it’s there. He’s there and his mouth is on me, sucking, licking, teasing. His fingers slide inside me and I moan, biting my lip in the process, shocked at how fast that familiar deep ache in my sex begins.

“Oh,” I rasp out. “Oh.” I grab his head, steeping my fingers into the long, thick locks of his dark hair that give me plenty to hold on to. My nipples tighten painfully beneath my bra, that deep ache radiates through me until I can’t move or breathe, seconds ticking by before I tumble into an explosion of desire. There is nothing but pleasure spiraling through me, and his mouth on my body, his fingers stroking all the right places. Time passes, yet stands still. I don’t know, but I don’t want it to end, but too soon the intensity fades, and that tight knot in my sex relaxes, the leg that is holding me up turning rubbery.

Shane seems to know; he always seems to understand what I need, even though the two men I knew before him were selfish, focused on themselves. It’s a thought that comes from nowhere, but he drives home that point by wrapping his arm around my waist before easing my leg down. Then he is shoving up my blouse, his lips are on my belly, a rush of emotions crashing over me. I didn’t want to care about anyone the way I do him, ever again.

The doorbell rings and Shane slides my skirt down my legs, calling out, “Just a minute,” before pushing to his feet, cupping my face and kissing me, the taste of me on his lips. “Just in time.” He smiles and strokes my cheek before reaching for the door, and my gaze lands on my panties smack in the middle of the floor, and in full view of the hotel staff person bringing our food.

I scramble forward, my knees wobbling, as I bend down to scoop up my panties at the same moment Shane opens the door. The result is not good. I fall flat on my ass but fortunately Shane’s big body is blocking me from view, and my panties would never have been seen. Shane shuts the door and turns to find me sprawled on the floor. He sets the bag down by the door and kneels beside me.

“What happened?”

I hold up my panties. “They were in front of the door and my knees were still recovering from ah … what you did to me.”

He laughs, and snatches my panties, stuffing them in his pocket, and helping me to my feet. “Let’s eat dinner and I’ll have you for dessert.”

“Promise?” I ask again.

“Oh yes,” he assures me. “I promise.”

* * *

Shane sheds his tie and jacket, while I lose my shoes as fast as I had my panties, and we set up our dinner on the coffee table. I choose a spot on the soft rug beneath it while Shane appears with not one, not two, but three bottles of wine, before claiming a spot for himself on the couch.

“I’m never going to make it past one bottle, let alone three,” I warn him.