Page 7 of Lie with Me
Just as I take one big impatient swig of Glenfiddich, I see her walking toward me. I nearly choke as she saunters across the room wearing a long coat, a skintight sweater dress, and thigh-high boots.
Holy. Shit. Tara in Hawaii was hot, but Tara in New York is a seductress. Her makeup is heavy, and her long platinum hair is cascading down her slim figure, reaching almost to her waist. And just like before, her eyes trap me. They are rimmed in black and dusted with shimmer. Her irises are as bright as an electric blue current.
“Hey,” she says simply once she reaches the bar.
“Hey,” I respond like a doof because that is what this woman reduces me to.
The bartender puts a napkin in front of Tara and asks what she would like to drink.
“A Manhattan, please. Straight up with extra cherries,” she orders, surprising me.
“I didn’t take you for a whiskey girl.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” She flirts right off the bat.
“There are a lot of things I do.” I get a little closer to her, firing right back. A few moments later, the bartender places Tara’s drink in front of her. With her eyes trained on me, she tucks some hair behind one ear, picks up her martini glass, and takes a long, slow sip. It makes me instantly hard as I enviously watch the brown liquid pass through her lips. That whiskey has no idea how lucky it is.
“So.” She places the glass down and turns her body toward me.
“So,” I echo her, and we both smile. “How was dinner?”
“Fine,” she says softly, seductively. “How was your day?”
“Long,” I admit. “I did some work and then spent the restof the time thinking about you.”
Tara takes another delicate sip of her martini, her blue eyes plastered to mine. “I was thinking about you, too.” With her confession, we simultaneously move closer together.
“Good.” I slip my arm loosely around her waist. I didn’t think it was possible to be apart for so long and feel as if we never left each other’s side. “What exactly were you thinking about?”
She smiles, and I automatically know we were thinking about the exact same thing.
I take a long swig of my scotch, trying to temper my raging hormones.
“Tell me a secret,” she says softly into my ear as if she senses my unrest. My emotions turn over.
With bravado, I divulge, “I didn’t just come to New York for business. I wanted to see you.” I grip her hip. “I wanted to feel you.” I drop my face to her neck and inhale her sweet scent, running my nose along her skin.
“Well, I’m here.” She offers herself up.
I snap my head up so I can look at her. “Yes, you are. Spend the night with me,” I boldly proposition. Every second that ticks by down here is one we’re missing upstairs.
“I can do that.” She leans into me so close our lips brush. “I want to feel you, too.” Every cell in my body pulsates. I don’t hold back, I grab her by the neck and smother her with an irrepressible kiss. It doesn’t matter that we’re out in public or that I can feel every eye at the bar staring at us; having Tara so close unleashes desires in me unheard of for any human man.
“Let’s go.” I hastily grab some cash from my wallet and throw it onto the bar. Taking Tara by the hand, I lead her out of the lounge and straight to the elevators. I glance back as she trails behind me holding her coat and purse to her chest. At the elevator door, I hold her close as we wait for them to open. She snuggles up to me, dotting kisses on my neck as the never-ending seconds tick by. If those doors don’t separate soon, I am going to rip them open with my bare hands. There’s suddenly ading. I yank Tara inside and press the number to my floor. Once enclosed in the small space, there’s no restraint. It’s like a chemical reaction. We attack each other. She drops her belongings as I pin her into the corner. Like two starving animals, we claw and kiss and grind all over each other until we are panting and the mirrored walls have fogged over. The elevator dings, and I glance back to see it hasn’t stopped on my floor. We break apart just as two men enter the elevator with us. They’re middle-aged and dressed in designer suits. They’re both smirking as they step on.
“Please, don’t let us interrupt,” one says entertained, turning his back to us and pressing a button.
“How very kind of you,” I reply, pulling Tara against my chest. We’re both out of breath and slightly disheveled; Tara’s lips swollen and pink from my flaming kisses. I smile to myself. Her pussy is going to look the same way once I’m done with it.
When we finally reach my floor, I scoop up Tara’s coat and purse from the ground and salute the two men still on the elevator with us. They both shoot me an envious grin.That’s right, fellas, be jealous. Be so fucking jealous.
I open the door to my suite and show Tara in.
“Wow!” She walks straight into the living area and looks out the window.
“This is one of my favorite places to stay.” I drop her stuff on the sofa. The room is comfortably large with sleek black furniture, outlandish art, white couches, and gray area rugs. But it’s the view that keeps me coming back.
“This is awesome,” Tara breathes as she gazes down at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
