“Excellent. Once we’re in the room, put down the plates and take it off. I’ll handle things from there.”
“So we’ll have wild monkey sex and then walk back into the party like nothing happened?”
He glanced at her. “You have a problem with that?”
“Not at all.”
Chapter 12
IF ELLE HAD offered any protest, Trey would have dialed back his enthusiasm. But she was on board with the program, which gave him another dose of confidence for the future. Elle liked being a little wild, and that’s why they were perfect for each other.
At the door to his room, he had to set down both champagne flutes while he dug out his key. But he got the door open, picked up the flutes, and followed Elle inside. The room looked pristine, because he’d let the maid have her way in here.
That had killed him, because he’d liked the rumpled sheets that still carried the scent of sex and Elle. But he’d picked up on Elle’s desire for order, something she’d probably learned from her military parents. He could be orderly when it was important.
But she didn’t seem to notice the crisp look of the room. Following his directions, she set both plates on his desk and pulled her knit dress over her head. The effect of Elle standing there in a skimpy bra, lacy panties and silver heels... He nearly dropped both champagne flutes.
She gazed at him. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“Oh, yeah.” He propped his butt against the door and pulled off his boots. “Don’t move. Let me look at you while I get out of my boots and jeans.”
“And your shirt.” Her mouth tilted up at the corners. “You’ll be up on the stage pretty soon. I don’t want you looking as if you just had a roll in the hay.”
“Why not?” But after he shucked his jeans and briefs, he took off his shirt, too. “Rock stars do it all the time.”
“Is that what we’re about to have? Rock star sex?”
“I have no idea what that is.” He tossed the condom he’d carried in his jeans pocket as insurance—he’d had no idea whether she’d be up for this when he got dressed—onto the desk. Then he closed the distance between them and wrapped her warm body in his arms. “But any rock star in the world would be lucky to find you in his room between sets.”
“Flatterer.” She lifted her mouth to his.
“Nope.” He leaned down and took a small taste, which required control because he felt like a starving man at a feast. “You’re the real deal, Elle. You’re incredibly beautiful without being a diva. You’re fiery in bed, but I have the feeling that’s a well-kept secret.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Very well kept. Only two people know it.”
He groaned and rested his forehead against hers. “Do you realize how important that is? Dear God, Elle. You and I have opened ourselves to each other in ways that some people never do.”
She heaved a breath. “Is this going to be a deep discussion? Because I don’t think we have time for that before the next set.”
“You’re right.” And he was officially an idiot, which came as no surprise. “We have time for one spectacular cli**x each, and then we have to go back to the reception.”
“I’m still wearing the silver stilettos.”
“So you are.” He hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her delicate panties and drew them down over her incredible legs until he reached the floor. “Step out, please.”
She did, with grace and style.
He tossed the panties over his shoulder and stood. “Rock star sex seems as if it should be up against a hard surface.” He scooped up the condom and handed it to her. “Keep track of that for me.”
“I don’t think a rock star would make his date hold his condom.”
“Maybe not, but I’m new at this.” Catching her around the waist, he swung her up and around until she was braced against the door.
“The door? Really?”
“It has multiple advantages. While we’re getting it on, nobody can force their way in.”
“Is that likely?”
“You never know. Condom, please?”
She started laughing. “I feel like a character in a dark comedy.” But she handed him the condom.
He desperately needed it for his aching cock, which was in danger of detonating before its time. She might think this was some sort of comedy, but seeing her clothed in nothing but a push-up bra and stilettos was playing havoc with his restraint.
He rolled on the condom and grasped her hips. His gaze traveled down to the silver straps and impossible high heels, and he wondered if he was into kinky, because seeing those things made his balls tighten painfully. “Wrap your legs around me and hold on to my shoulders.”
“Now I feel like a performer in Cirque du Soleil.”
He blew out a breath. “Just do it.”
She did, and despite her smart-ass comments, her breathing was jerky and uneven. She might be into this as much as he was. When he looked into her eyes, he was certain of it. Blue flames danced there.
Her silver heels pressed against the small of his back, which made him aware of them, even though they were out of sight. He liked that. Yeah, he might be a little kinky.
Once he had her positioned properly, with her back firmly against the door, he eased forward, seeking that slick channel he knew awaited him. He wasn’t disappointed. Judging by how wet she was, she’d been as impatient for this moment as he’d been.
Her breath caught. “I’ve never done it up against a door.”
“Me, either, but I think I like it.” He locked in tight and met her gaze. Yes. “Can you balance and unfasten your bra?”
“Why?”
“I want to watch your br**sts quiver when I push into you.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I want it all, Elle. Every bit of this.”
Sucking in a breath, she let go of his shoulders long enough to flip open the front closure of her bra. The material fell away, revealing creamy skin and n**ples tight with desire.
“Yeah. Like that.” He drew back and rocked forward. Her body shook from the impact, giving him exactly the visual he’d been hoping for.
She moaned.
“Is that a good moan or a bad moan?”
She licked her lips. “A good moan. Do that again.”
“With pleasure.” He slid back, but not too far, and drove home once more.
“That’s...nice.” Her gaze lost focus, as if her concentration had shifted, moved to that locus of all things wonderful.
“Want more?”
“Yes. Please.”
Sure of the territory now, he initiated a slow rhythm. She gripped his shoulders and met each thrust as they created a steady thumping noise against the door. At first he worried about that. But as the tension grew, he gave up worrying, closed his eyes and let himself feel—the delicious friction, the liquid heat, the surge of adrenaline when she tightened around his cock, signaling... Oh, yeah, she was coming, and so was he, in a furious rush of pleasure. She gasped and cried out. He shoved deep and stayed there, his c*ck pulsing, his brain spinning, his spirit soaring. So. Good.
He opened his eyes. The sight of her leaning back against the door, her gaze open and vulnerable, touched something so deep within his heart that he’d never forget this moment. Any second now she could pull up the drawbridge and lock him out.
But if she’d dared to leave the door open, then he would dare the perilous walk through it. “I’m falling in love with you, Elle.”
For one shining moment, joy filled her expression. Then, as if she’d pushed a switch, the light dimmed. “It’s too soon,” she said gently. She touched his face with a trembling hand. “You were half in love with me before we met. You’re falling for the idea of me.”
His jaw tightened. “No, I’m falling for you, Elle Masterson.”
“It’s the sex.”
“Of course it’s the sex! And because we’ve had so damned much of it, I’ve found out you’re warm, and giving, and funny, and adventuresome, and bawdy and incredibly...real.”
She swallowed. “You are such a romantic. You’re so good with words. You know exactly what to say to make it seem as if—”
“Damn it, don’t dismiss what I’ve said because you’ve got it in your head that I’m some sort of crazy dreamer who’s out of touch with reality.”
“Trey, you are a dreamer.”
“Okay, I’ll own that label. But because I’m a dreamer, I pick up on things that other people might not. I know you, Elle. Every time we’ve been together, I’ve soaked that knowledge in through my pores. But do you know me? At all?”
Her expression closed down. “Maybe not. And we should go.”
“Yes, we should.” He wouldn’t get anywhere with her now, anyway. She was blocking him, blocking the truth because it scared the devil out of her. She couldn’t make the leap with him, at least not yet.
Easing away from her, he supported her until she was standing again. Then he turned and walked into the bathroom. She was right about one thing. It was too soon, but not for him. It was too soon for her.
She was right about something else, too. He had been half in love with her before they met, and for a very good reason. By rescuing him, she’d shown that she was brave and caring. He’d felt it in her touch. He’d recognized it in her determination to get him to safety.
And most of all, he’d heard the warmth in her voice. He’d fallen in love with the sound. Maybe he hadn’t consciously analyzed why, but he could do that now. He was good with auditory cues, and her voice had been filled with compassion.
During that crisis, the soul of Elle Masterson had come shining through. She hadn’t been cautious and logical when she’d come upon him in the snow. If she had been, she would have called 911. Instead, unwilling to depend on others when every second counted, she’d acted.
That was the woman he was falling in love with. Correction—he’d already fallen, but he’d decided to frame it differently so he wouldn’t scare her so much. He’d scared her, anyway. Next time he’d give her the unvarnished truth.
And there would be a next time, he vowed as he walked back into the room. She was already dressed. She peered into the mirror over the desk while she tucked strands of blond hair back into the arrangement on top of her head.
“I like your hair like that.”
She took a rhinestone hairpin out of her mouth and fastened it in place. “Thanks.”
“Elle, I don’t want to fight with you.”
She turned toward him, her expression cautious. “I don’t want to fight with you, either. I like you a lot.”
He supposed that was something. “So you’ll come back here with me after the party?”
“I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.”
He grabbed his clothes and started putting them on. “Look, if you’re worried that I’ll slip a disk, we can forget about the weird positions tonight. I admit that up against the door put a strain on my back.”
“I meant—”
“No, really.” He dressed quickly. “Missionary works fine for me. Or you can be on top, which is really easy on my spine.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Okay, we won’t talk about it.”
“Good. Actions speak louder than words, anyway.” He checked the time on his phone. “Wow, we were amazingly fast. Alex should have things under control for another ten minutes, at least.”
“Then you should eat.”
“I do believe I will. And drink.” He crossed to the desk and picked up one of the champagne flutes. “Here’s to great sex.”
She glanced at him, as if wondering what he was up to. But she took her flute and touched it to his. “To great sex.”
Elle tasted her champagne. “Wow. Nice.”
“That’s Pam Mulholland for you. She likes to go first-class, although I think she realized that caviar would be wasted on this bunch.”
“Is she Pam Sterling now?”
“You know, I don’t think so. I seem to remember hearing that she decided she’d keep her name, and Emmett was fine with that.” He picked up one of the miniature quiches and took a bite.
“Really? That’s interesting.”
“They’re not going to be the typical couple living in a cottage with a white picket fence. Pam will stay at her B and B as usual, and Emmett will keep his little house at the ranch. They’ve been spending the night together off and on for years. Nothing much will change in their lifestyle.” He gestured toward the plates. “You should eat one of these little sandwiches. They’re amazing.” He popped the rest of his into his mouth.
“So why get married?” Elle picked up a sandwich.
“Good question. From what I hear, Pam wanted to make what had been a private arrangement more public.” He laughed. “And she wanted a party. I think a good part of it was staging this extravaganza. She runs a B and B for a reason. She’s a very social person.”
“Is Emmett?” Elle still hadn’t taken a bite of her sandwich.
“Not as much as she is, but after today, I’ll bet he gets into it more. They’ll be good for each other.” He glanced at the sandwich in her hand. “You’d better eat. We should leave pretty soon and this stuff will be trashed by the time we get back.”
“Oh.” She looked at the sandwich as if she’d forgotten all about it. “You’re right.” She ate it and reached for another.
“The veggies are good, too.” He bit into a carrot stick.
She laughed.
“What?” He liked hearing her laugh, but he didn’t know why she had.
“You sound like my mother. Eat your veggies. They’re good for you.”