Mogul (Page 13)

He catches up with us, stealing the leash back from me. His fingers brush over mine and he tugs on the leash so slowly that I know it’s on purpose.

“So this is how I find out your name.” I tut and shake my head.

“I seem to have one.”

“And it’s a fairly easy one to spell. You definitely could have shared that with me,” I add with a raised brow.

“It wasn’t relevant at the time.”

“And is it relevant now?” I fish.

We pause in the middle of the path.

He loosens the leash while Milly sniffs around a large tree trunk, and we stare at each other. He eyes my lips, and I eye his.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe it’s relevant. Maybe it’s not.”

I wait.

“Ian…” I test his name out loud. “I like it.”

His eyes darken, as if hearing his name is the most effective aphrodisiac for the man. I curse myself for saying it in the middle of Central Park. Not that I can do anything about quenching our thirst now.

I wonder if he’s going to take a cab back to the hotel.

I can straddle him again… tease him again… turn him on so much he’ll fuck me hard and fast. Again.

Suddenly Ian’s phone seems to vibrate in his pocket, and when he pulls it out, he scans a message.

“Gran needs to head back. Apparently she forgot a massage therapist is coming over in thirty minutes.” He tucks his phone into the pocket of his slacks as he tugs Milly back onto the path.

“You’re good with your grandma,” I say.

“I’m better in bed.” He grins.

I laugh, but feel a telling flush on my cheeks. What is this guy doing to me? I’m flushing on our way back to Mrs. Ford. We hand over Milly, and after Ian puts her in a cab and I’ve waved goodbye to her, I stand before him with my veins boiling in anticipation.

He seems to hesitate, just staring at me with something I can’t quite decipher. A mixture of frustration and something else.

“Well. Goodbye.”

Wow, did I misread him? Probably I did. Hating that the flush is coming back, I turn to head for the train.

One second, I’m walking forward, trying to ignore the whacking of my crazy heart and the fact that Ian Ford—my one-night stand—is standing only a few feet away from me, and the next his arm flies out and his hand curves tightly around my wrist.

“Sara.”

I turn.

I can hardly take the flames in his eyes.

With his free hand, he hails a taxi, and when it stops before us, he opens the door for me.

I know what’s happening, and I want it to happen so much that I quickly climb into the back of the cab.

Ian climbs in behind me.

“Where to?” the driver asks.

“The nearest five-star hotel you can find.” Ian looks at me with a frown.

“Four stars will do just fine,” I add urgently, and Ian’s frown turns to a look of interest. He grabs my waist and drags me toward him, and before I can take another breath, he’s got his hands—oh, gosh, his hands—on me, and he’s shoving his tongue into my mouth, and oh crap, I hadn’t been hallucinating. My memory didn’t fail me. In fact, it failed only in the sense that I didn’t remember the exact way he tasted, kissed, but what I never forgot was that it was heart-stopping, toe-curling, panty-melting, and a little bit soul-wrenching—the way he eats at my mouth, the hunger and the latent passion there. I didn’t remember that he was this irresistible.

My panties are soaked, and my lungs are working overtime trying to find a breath. I grab the back of his head as aggressively as he’s grabbing mine and push back at his tongue. Ian drops his head to nibble and bite at my neck when I drag my lips to kiss and lick his ear. And, as New York passes by the window, we cling to each other like we will never have another chance.

STARS

Sara

My mouth feels raw by the time the cab halts before a fashionable hotel just a few blocks away. Ian drags me out of the cab, holding my hand as he leads me inside. I linger around the lobby as he goes to check in, watching him walk back to me with a key in hand.

“Ford!” someone calls. “Shit! You’re in town?”

Ian sets his hand on my elbow as a tall, blond guy approaches. His friend seems shocked by the sight of me standing next to him, and something about that makes my stomach constrict.

I mean, I’m fucking a stranger. How much do I know about Ian?

“I’d better leave,” I whisper, rethinking this whole thing, but as I speak Ian catches my fingers to halt me. He leans to whisper in my ear. “Don’t leave. Or I’ll find you.”

I go up on tiptoes to whisper, “Please don’t. I really don’t think we have anything in common except chemistry and I flunked that in high school—not my favorite subject.”

He just stares. At my mouth.

“Okay, bad joke. But you get it.”

He turns back to the guy who greeted him. “I’ve got to bolt, but I’ll catch up with you later.”

“I… hell yeah. Let’s do lunch,” the man replies.

“Will do,” Ian tells him. Then he turns his attention back to me.

“The exit is that way.” I point nervously behind me.

“The room is that way.” He glances at the elevators.

I shoot him a haughty look and pry free of his grip. Ian grabs the loop in my jeans and twists me back in the direction of the elevators. I kind of like it that he’s not letting me go. It’s nice to see he’s as interested in fucking me as I am in fucking him. Then I hear the deepest, sexiest voice speak behind me. “You always run in the opposite direction when you see something you want?”

I am not going to answer that. I’m not going to admit that my nipples are beaded and that my panties are wet. Almost as if jealous of the other panties that once were in a little wad in his hands months ago. “You’ve got it all wrong, buddy. Just leaving room for your ego.”

“My ego likes it just fine with you close.” He’s almost purring now. “The way you’re looking at me, it could not like it any better.”

“Full of yourself much?”

“So full of it I have enough to spare and get you full of me too, in a matter of seconds.”

I raise both my eyebrows.

“Just say the words—and we’ll break the news to all the other girls here. They’ll be devastated.”

I glance at the women in the lobby. Obviously most of them have noticed him, and I hate that he seems to have noticed.

“They’ll send me thank-you notes,” I say.

“Well, then… I hope you have a big mailbox.”

“You’re dreaming.”

“Of you.”

I sniff when I see him reach out to press the elevator button behind me. His arm brushes against the top of mine, and my skin tingles from the contact.

I hear the terrible, exciting, unnerving ding.

My whole body tightens in anticipation.

Ian lifts his hand and presses it against the small of my back, leading me into the elevator. We’re the only ones inside. He presses the button for the top floor and uses the key to access it.

Wow. A penthouse suite?

His hand remains on the small of my back, his thumb caressing my skin below the fabric of my top.

His eyes hold mine, and something pulls inside my stomach.

The heat of his stare spreads under my skin, like a lick of fire between my legs.