“Oh my,” she says, her hand flying to her mouth.

Emery giggles and buries her face into my neck. The warm puff of her breath against my skin sends tingling heat down my spine and into my groin, making my dick even harder.

“Not helping, sweetheart,” I murmur. I want to swat her ass, but in the presence of our audience, I resist. Just barely.

The elevator stops at our floor and we make a hasty exit. Emery stumbles, tipsy from the three sangrias she’s had, and lets me tug her down the hall.

Finally we’re inside our room, and when the door closes behind us, the only sound is of our thumping heartbeats. The room is dim, except for the bathroom light that was left on, creating a swath of light to see by.

“Why’d you tell Larry I was your boyfriend?” I ask, my voice a mere whisper.

“You saw how he is with me.”

“Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “I wanted to fucking hit him in the face. Repeatedly.”

“I couldn’t come here and be the only one without a date. I needed you.”

“As a buffer,” I say.

She nods, reluctantly. “Do you mind?”

“No, actually. It’s cool. But why not say we were just friends, you know, tell the truth?”

She swallows and looks down at the carpeting. “Sometimes it feels like . . .”

“More,” I say, finishing for her.

Her gaze flies up to mine. “Yeah.”

I take a deep shaky breath, not knowing what to say next. This whole situation is my fault.

“But I know you don’t want that,” she says, her voice small.

“I want you,” I tell her, lifting her chin to look at me.

Alarm bells ring in my head. Beth’s warnings, Hudson’s lectures . . . but all of it means nothing. Because I want her. So badly it hurts.

Her hand dips down and she grips my cock through my pants. “Yeah, I picked up on that.”

A grunt of surprise pushes past my lips as she rubs her hand up and down. “Fuck.”

“You’re not fit to take out in public. Scaring women and children like that.” She makes a tsking sound.

“What are you going to do about it, Miss Winters?”

I lean down and take her mouth again. Damn, one hit and I’m addicted to her. She lets me devour her mouth, her warm tongue stroking mine as I grind my erection into her soft belly.

Letting out a loud gasp, Emery breaks away from our kiss.

“What?” I ask.

“I’m sure you were lying about that whole nine-inches thing, but I have to know.” Her grin turns devilish as her hands move to my zipper, and she slowly tugs it down.

I lace my fingers and cross my hands behind my head as I lean back against the wall. “Have at it, babe.”

She smirks at me and then goes back to work, reaching inside my black boxer briefs. I feel her warm palm curl around me, and it’s heaven.

She grips me and pulls out my cock. “Holy shit.”

“What?” I look down to see her view.

We’re both fully clothed, with just my cock between us. Her hand doesn’t even close around my girth, but it’s such a pretty sight—her manicured red nails and delicate hand holding me this way.

“Women actually let you put this thing inside them?”

I want to laugh at her innocence, but I don’t. “Come here,” I say, leaning down to kiss her again.

I want her to stroke that pretty little hand up and down—I’m so fucking worked up that I’m ready to explode, but I don’t want to rush her. I know this is a huge moment for us. There might be no going back to being friends after this, and I have no idea what that means, or how to process it. I only know that I want her underneath me, on top of me, everywhere.

Reaching behind her, I unzip her dress and let it fall to the floor. She’s wearing a black strapless bra that pushes her titties up so nice and high for me to admire, and little black boy shorts. Practical, comfortable, but still sexy as hell. My hands skim down her body, over the dip in her waist and down to her ass, where her round cheeks peek from the undies she’s wearing.

Finally her hand begins working up and down. It feels good.

“Use two hands, baby,” I encourage her. She giggles but adds a second hand, and fuck, now that feels really good.

When I rub my thumb over the front of her panties, Emery releases a little grunt of pleasure. I want to make her come. I want to take her over to the bed. But instead, I switch our positions so she’s the one leaning up against the wall, braced with support. Then I push my fingers inside her panties and find her soaking wet. Her little pearl of a clit is already swollen and distended, as if reaching out for me. I circle it with my finger and Emery moans.

“Hayden. Oh God.”

“You like me touching this hot little pussy?” I whisper, speeding up my strokes.

She cries out and rubs her greedy hands up and down my cock while her hips press forward, giving me all the access I want to her wet cunt.

“Hayden,” she says on a groan. “What are we doing?”

I look at her—really look at her—and realize she’s tipsy. And questioning what we’re doing. I suddenly feel like a grade-A asshole. She’s not sure about this, and my determination instantly fades.

“Emery. I’m sorry,” I murmur, taking a step back and tucking myself into my pants. Ouch. Damn zipper. I have to stop this before we go too far . . . do something we’ll both regret in the morning.

“W-what?” she asks, her eyes glassy and her cheeks pink. “What are you doing?”

“You’ve had too much to drink. You’re not thinking clearly, and I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”

She takes a step toward me, her chest bouncing in the push-up bra. “You’re not . . .”

I lean down and press my lips to hers. “It’s just not a good idea. Good night.”

I’m not sure when I turned so chivalrous, but I take a deep breath and force myself to walk away. Since we’re sharing a room, the only reprieve is the bathroom—and that’s where I go. I pull out my aching cock and jack it so hard and fast, I’m almost raw by the time I come.

When I’m composed and cleaned up, I exit the bathroom and find Emery already curled up in bed, lying on her side, facing away from me as she snores lightly.

And I know I’ve made the right decision.

At least, I hope I have.

Chapter Fourteen

Emery

Yet another endless day of negotiations and legal nitpicking. The hotel’s air-conditioning can barely keep the stifling atmosphere at bay.

I resist the urge to drum my fingers on the polished conference table. For Christ’s sake, you indecisive twits . . . what the hell is the problem? These suit-wearing chimps said they were happy with the paperwork when we e-mailed them our final drafts two weeks ago. Why did they wait until now to start hemming and hawing and scribbling notes?

These documents should be signed, sealed, and delivered already. I thought we were done with this freaking case. Isn’t that why we all flew out to the middle of nowhere? What happened to all that “celebrate a job well done” stuff? Even on a good day, this dull-as-dishwater meeting would make me antsy . . . and my memories of last night elevate it to pure torture.

I can’t stop thinking about the skillful way that Hayden kisses. His long, thick cock tenting his pants and throbbing in my hands. His deft fingers on my clit. He looks incredibly handsome in a suit, but now I know that he looks even better halfway out of one. I wonder how he would look completely naked. Probably like a sculpture from ancient Greece. Why do I have to be stuck in here? Why isn’t that sexy bastard on top of me right now?

Fuck . . . I’m slowly but surely driving myself insane. I wish Hayden hadn’t stopped our fun just before we got to the good part. Sure, I was buzzed, but I wasn’t that drunk.

Unable to fight off my horny boredom anymore, I hide my phone under the table and text him as subtly as possible.