She wrestled on her panties, her movements jerky, the towel slipping slightly and giving him a view of one luscious thigh.
"What else, indeed?" she grumbled, her voice wavering the slightest bit. "That's all there is to life, isn't there?" She speared him with those red eyes again.
"That about covers it," he answered.
"What about family?" Her eyebrows lifted and dropped. She took a step closer to him. "Emotional connection?"
Cold sweat prickled along his shirt collar.
"Sex. Closeness. A night spent in someone's arms instead of being alone." With each example, she came closer. Until she was standing in front of him, chin elevated, holding his eyes unwavering.
Closeness.
If there was one thing he was not capable of giving, it was friendship. He'd buy her the moon. He'd fuck her silly. But that kind of closeness wasn't up for grabs. Not even in exchange for the coveted CEO of Crane Hotels. Not for anything.
"I'm just tired." She retreated and wrestled into a T-shirt without flashing him, then dropped the towel, exposing her legs briefly before she jammed them into a pair of long, stretchy pants. "Never mind."
"Never mind," he repeated as she bumped past him. "Is that like fine?" Because as he'd learned, fine was bad. Never mind didn't sound much better.
She shot him a confused look before climbing into bed and snatching a book off the nightstand. "I'll probably read a little, then call Lorelei. I need someone to talk to." She looked up after opening the book in the middle. "Apparently that's not in my contract. Do I need to go elsewhere or will you be leaving this room soon?"
Oh, hell no.
He stalked to the bed, took the book from her hand, and tossed it onto the couch that had been his bed for the last few weeks, but of course she'd ignored that sacrifice on his part.
"Hey!" she protested.
He bent over her, hands fisted on the bed at either side of her gorgeous, hidden body. "Who do you think you're talking to, Mrs. Crane?"
Her eyes flared, but not from anger and not from fear. From lust so thick he could taste it on his tongue.
"Will sex fix it?" he asked.
She looked infuriated, then slightly chagrined.
"Will it?" he demanded.
"Of course not," she murmured, unable to look anywhere but at his mouth.
He leaned closer, then a little closer, until his lips pressed hers. He slanted his mouth, but gently, giving her every opportunity to shove him away. To tell him no.
She did neither.
Instead, she reached for the back of his neck and tugged him close, until he was forced to shift his weight or lose his balance.
Hand under her ass, he moved her to the center of the bed, pressing every hardening inch of his body against every giving inch of hers.
"I made you cry," he said when he pulled away. Her fingers threaded into the back of his hair.
"Yes," she whispered.
"I don't like that I made you cry."
"So don't do it again." She laid the softest kiss on his mouth. "Sex might not fix it, but it's worth a shot."
The hold on his libido slipped.
"God, I want you." He tightened his grip on her ass.
"Then take me." She fisted his shirt and dragged him closer. Seconds later, his tie was tossed aside, the buttons undone one by one.
He continued moving his tongue against hers, tasting the salt from her tears and the heady, spicy flavor of her mouth. She smelled of shampoo and soap and all he wanted to do was bury his nose between her thighs and absolutely devour her. He didn't know how to fix her hurts deep down, but he knew how to make her forget them for now. And so far, she was willing to concede that point.
He'd take it.
But this wasn't just for her. No, there was a selfish part of him that needed her to cover his deep hurts as well. Forget what led them to this point, what would be waiting for him when it was over. His need for her was unlike any he'd felt before.
He was a starving man, and she was his feast.
* * *
This is crazy.
This is crazy.
But the words were drowned by the pulsating demands of her body. Reese was turning her inside out. She needed what he was offering. She needed to be taken, kissed hard, held down, fucked until she was begging for it.
Her emotions couldn't be trusted in his care, this she knew, but her body…her body was a different story. Reese Crane was an expert—knew exactly what a woman wanted, what a woman needed. She happened to be a wanting, needing woman.
He lifted her shirt over her head, his talented mouth closing over her nipple. Her hands dug into his hair, anchoring herself to him. Where before she was filled with despair and loneliness, now she was filled with longing and anticipation.
So much better.
He reached between her legs and cupped her sex and let her nipple go with a subtle pop. "Hot."
"Wet," she returned on a breath. Being hidden away with him here, having a shared secret…she liked it way more than she should. It was indulgent in the best possible way.
His lips met hers again, the rough scrape of his jaw welcome. She parted her legs where he was still touching her while she explored the planes of his muscled, bare chest. His golden skin, an army of abdominal muscles, and the scant trail of hair arrowing straight for the part of him she wanted to see most of all.
She cupped the erection straining his suit pants and he grunted, increasing the friction of his hand between her legs. She squirmed, all but coming on the spot—with her top off and her pants on.
"Not yet, you don't." The playful side of him intrigued her and only made her want him more. "Wait for me."
She wanted to wait. She wanted him inside her before she allowed her control to ebb, her body to uncoil. Given the buzz in her limbs, her orgasm would be all-consuming and she wanted to consume him with it.
She was tired of doing things alone.
Quickly, she unthreaded his belt, and when she reached for his zipper, he grunted a warning. "Careful."
She went slowly, unzipping as she slipped her other hand into his pants to protect his bare skin from the angry metal teeth. He was hard and heavy against her palm.
"Reese's rocket," she said against his mouth. His eyes closed, robbing her of the pleasure simmering there. "In the flesh.