Hot Finish (Fast Track #3)(39)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Ten sixty-nine.”

Suzanne stopped walking toward the elevator and stared at him. “Are you kidding me? We have room sixty-nine? You’re making that shit up.”

“I’m not,” he protested, hands up in the air. “And I didn’t ask for it either, so don’t go accusing me of being a pervert. It’s a coincidence.”

Somehow she didn’t believe him. “Uh-huh.”

“There’s a ten in it, too. So really, you just need to get your mind out of the gutter.” Ryder winked at her.

“I’ll do that. I’ll keep my mind on flowers and bunnies and the innocence of children, how does that sound? From the room next door to you.”

“Liar. There’s champagne, strawberries, and whipped cream waiting for us upstairs. Because I happen to like your mind in the gutter.”

Suzanne’s still slightly queasy stomach was overruled by her suddenly alert girl bits at the thought of lounging in bed eating whipped cream off Ryder’s . . . finger.

“Well, you know what my granddad used to always say.”

“What?”

“That makes me happier than a dog with two peters.”

Ryder laughed out loud. “I think I would have liked your granddad.”

“I think he would have liked you, too.” He would have. Her granddad and Ryder would have sat around shooting the shit and lamenting the state of the world together. Suzanne was sorry they’d never had a chance to meet.

Reaching down, he cupped her cheeks with both hands and kissed her deeply, boldly, affectionately.

And Suzanne let him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RYDER took Suzanne’s suitcase and set it by the armoire as Suzanne strolled around the room gawking. “Good Lord, look at this room. Swanky, Jefferson. You’ve moved up in the world.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think everyone got a room like this, it’s a nice hotel. Let me take your coat, babe.” He held out his hand and took her coat when she slipped out of it.

“Yeah, but this room is huge. And the view is killer.” Suzanne whipped back the partially opened drapes the rest of the way and stared down at the Strip. “Who’d you have to do to get this room?”

“The only one I’m going to do is you,” he told her, coming up behind her and lifting her hair so he could nuzzle the back of her neck. “But first I’m going to eat you.”

She gave a sigh. “So are there really strawberries and whipped cream or did you make that up to lure me to your room and have your wicked way with me?”

“There are strawberries and whipped cream. Chocolate, too, and champagne. You can eat them while I eat you.”

“You keep mentioning eating me. You must be hungry,” she teased.

“Starving.” Ryder turned her around and kissed her, sliding his hands into her hair. “It’s been too long since I tasted you.”

“It’s only been two weeks,” she murmured between kisses, giving him token attitude even as she felt herself relaxing into the kiss. Ryder knew just how to kiss her. How was it possible that no other man could touch her with the same immediate reaction?

The few men she’d dated since she’d split from Ryder had all had pros and cons—one who was a killer kisser, another who had been particularly skilled at o**l s*x, a third who had excelled at straight-up stroking sex. Which were all great in different ways at different times, but ultimately never enough. She didn’t want just the entrée, she wanted side dishes and dessert, too, for a balanced sex life. Which was why it was amazing to be standing in the arms of a man who could give her all three, a man who could just run a finger down her arm and turn her on.

She always loved the moment in their lazy, exploratory kisses where with a little hitch of the other one’s breath or a nip or a brushing of their chests together, the intent changed, kicking passion into high gear. That was a feeling she loved, that no-going-back sense of freedom and wildness, the leap off the diving board into sensation.

That happened when Ryder slipped his hand under her sweater and skimmed his fingers over her nipple.

It was a light, simple touch, yet she felt it from her toes to her inner thighs to her br**sts to her lips, and she groaned. Her br**sts were heavy, aching, begging to be touched further, harder. Stepping back, she yanked her sweater off over her head and tossed it to the floor.

“Oh, yeah?” Ryder said, his eyes darkening. “You’re ready to go there?”

Duh. They were in a room together for thirty seconds and she was ready. “Yes. So suck my ni**les, damn it.” Just to make sure he understood she was serious about both of them getting naked ASAP, Suzanne popped the button on his khaki pants.

Ryder hated wearing khakis, but at events like this, he needed to be a little more turned out than in just jeans. She would never admit it out loud, but the suburban staple of the adult male got her hot. It was like the challenge of seeing if she could ruffle the feathers of a man determined to behave. At the moment, there was zero challenge though, because Ryder looked ready to get down and dirty as he bent over her br**sts.

“Do you know that you have perfect br**sts?” he said, hands cupping them as he pressed kisses on her chest.

“No, I wasn’t aware of that.” Though Suzanne had no issues with them herself. They were decent br**sts, a good size and maintaining their perky position quite well, thank you very much. What she really loved about them, though, was that they had always responded to stimulation.

Stimulation that Ryder was providing at the moment with both his tongue, stroking across the top of her br**sts, and his fingers, plucking lightly at her ni**les. Suzanne let her eyes drift closed, her own fingers idle on his undone pants. She just wanted a moment to enjoy the feelings he brought out in her.

But within a minute or two that enjoyment shifted to restlessness as Ryder teased over her br**sts again and again and the flutter low in her belly turned aching and urgent. Suzanne reached behind her and popped her bra loose, but Ryder didn’t take the bait. Letting her bra dangle off her arms, he stepped back and looked at her with shiny lips and dark, lusty eyes.

“Are you going to just look or are you going to do something?” she asked.

Ryder made a soft hiss of exasperation. “What I ought to do is spank you.”

“Promise?”

He laughed softly and reached out and hooked his index finger in her disheveled bra and pulled it forward so it dropped off her arms and to the floor. “On the bed, smart-ass.”