Risk: Not Until You, Part 2. Roni Loren

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СКАЧАТЬ “Come for me, Cela. Let’s scratch something off that Never Have I Ever list of yours.”

      His finger dipped inside me again, his thumb strumming my clit, and everything went white behind my eyes. Oh, God, oh, God. I turned my head, my lips parting, as the orgasm crashed over me. I wasn’t going to be able to stay quiet. But before a sound could slip past, a hot mouth was on me, my cry swallowed by Pike’s kiss.

      My mind went blank, and inhibition dropped from me like a snapped anchor. I tumbled into the moment, the touch, the kiss. My body fluttered around Foster’s fingers, begging for more, for the real thing. And I poured that need into the kiss with Pike.

      “Hotel’s right around the corner,” the cabbie said, clearing his throat and yanking me from my slow drift back down to earth. “Do you need to go through the lobby entrance or are you heading to their wine bar?”

      “The lobby,” Foster said, tracing his fingers along my inner thigh again.

      Pike eased away from our kiss, his gaze hooded. “The next one’s mine.”

      My brain and body were buzzing in some lust-laced haze when I turned to face forward, and everything was hot, flush. Foster’s hand was back in his lap, but the bulge in his jeans was prominent. After a few breaths to return my breathing to normal, I demurely straightened my dress, then reached out and squeezed Foster’s knee in silent thanks—almost afraid to look at him because I knew I’d lose my stoic facade.

      He lowered his head next to mine as the car rounded a corner and nuzzled the shell of my ear, sending a hot ripple down my left side. “That was beautiful, angel. I love feeling your fear slip from you as you let your desire take over. There’s nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants and has the guts to ask for it.”

      I closed my eyes, letting the warm honey of his voice slide over me.

      “The Hotel St. Mark,” the driver announced.

      “We’re going to make this very good for you, Cela,” Foster promised, and then Pike was taking my hand, helping me out of the cab, and leading me into the vast unknown.

      Pike steered me with a hand on my back into the lavish lobby of the St. Mark. Unlike the modern lines of the club we’d just left or the sleek hotels that filled this part of downtown Dallas, this building had the look of lovingly cared-for historical opulence—inlaid marble tile, rich dark wood furniture, and a grand staircase that would make a bride-to-be weep.

      “Wow, this is beautiful,” I whispered, feeling as if I needed to keep my voice down, lest the building realize I was far too small town to be staying in a place so elegant.

      Foster smiled down at me as we made our way over to the front desk. “Glad you approve. I book all of my out-of-town clients here.”

      Clients? The statement was like a one-two punch of reality. My step stuttered.

      Both guys paused, as if totally in tune with my every movement. “Everything okay?” Pike asked.

      I glanced between the two of them. “Yes. Fine. I just…”

      “Go ahead,” Foster said, giving a nod of encouragement.

      “Well, I just realized two things. One, there’s no way I could afford to pay for even half a room here. And, two, I have no idea what you do for a living, Foster.”

      Foster leveled a gaze at me. “First, you won’t pay for anything, ever. So let’s get that out of the way.”

      “But—”

      He put a finger to my lips, my scent still on him. “That part is non-negotiable. Secondly, I own a tech company called 4N Solutions.”

      My eyebrows lifted. He owned a company? And he shared an apartment in my complex? Either he was very bad at his job, very frugal, or something else was going on there. Maybe he had a lot of college debt or a greedy ex-wife or child support to pay. The last couple of thoughts had my lungs constricting.

      “You’re panicking again, doc,” Pike said softly.

      Foster lowered his hand. “Cela, if you need to ask more questions, need to know us better before we do this, just say the word. We can go to the bar and talk… or even go home if you want.”

      I swallowed past the knot in my throat. What did it matter if he had an ex or even if he had kids? This was not the start of a relationship. This was not a compatibility test. This was sex. A fun, hot diversion before I moved home. I knew I was safe with them, and God knows I was attracted to them. Those were the only must-haves for this type of thing.

      I nodded. “I’m okay. Maybe y’all can help me shut off my overanalytical brain.”

      Pike grinned. “Challenge accepted.”

      He slipped an arm around my waist and gave my hip a squeeze, instantly easing that last coup of my old self.

      Foster stopped at the front desk and gave the pretty blonde behind the desk his name. “We’ll need a suite for the night.”

      “Absolutely, Mr. Foster,” the woman said in that elegant, library-quiet voice that luxury hotel employees must practice. She tapped on her keyboard with long fingernails, then looked up, taking in the three people standing in front of her. “Two queens?”

      “Just a king,” Foster said smoothly.

      “Of course.” The woman’s lips pressed together, and her gaze slid over to mine.

      I braced for the impact, but where I expected judgment, I found envy in the other woman’s eyes. Huh.

      Three key cards appeared on the granite countertop. “You’ll be on the top floor to the right. Is there anything else I can help you with? I’m about to go on break, I could show you to your room if you’d like.”

      I heard an extra dose of suggestion in the seemingly innocuous statement, but Foster’s response was swift, his smile painstakingly polite. “No thank you…” He glanced at her nametag. “Tabitha. We have everything we need.”

      Foster grabbed my hand and gathered me to his side. “Come on, angel. I have a feeling the view upstairs is going to be fantastic.”

      Oh, I had no doubt. The thought of seeing these two naked had crossed my mind so many times, I could paint a detailed portrait of what I imagined was beneath their clothes. But as the elevator loomed in front of us, my conscience niggled at me, urging me to tell the guys the whole truth about my Never Have I Ever list. I hadn’t put anything on that list that wasn’t true. But like any former Catholic school girl knew, lies of omission were just as bad as blatant ones.

      The gold doors of the elevator dinged, and Pike took a quick step forward to hold the door open for me and Foster. We slipped into the elevator, and Pike followed, along with an older couple who were deeply involved in their discussion of the symphony they’d seen earlier. As the gray-haired lady tried to convince her husband that the tickets had been worth the price, I pressed my back against the side of the elevator, holding the rail behind me and listening to the warring factions in my head.

      Pike glanced down at my tight grip on the rail, then nudged me with his shoulder. “Got a fear of elevators, doc?”

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