smile, of course, although based on the fact that she hadn't
started drooling, she obviously hadn't see beyond his disguise. "Do you have a reservation,
Mr...?"
"Gallagher. Roddy Gallagher." He pulled out an American Express card out of his wallet.
As he handed it over, Nicole glanced at the name. Sure enough, it had the fake name
Grif used. She arched her brows at him.
He squeezed her hand and focused his charm on the woman.
Who batted her eyes shamelessly. "Thank you, Mr. Gallagher. For how many nights?"
"One night," he replied as though he showed up in hotels after midnight with a woman
in tow all the time.
Nicole didn't like that thought.
Was this a bad idea? Maybe she shouldn't be there.
But even as she had the thought, she knew there was no question that she was going
to go through with this. She wasn't promiscuous, always taking care in picking who
she ended up with, and this was happening way faster than normal. But it felt inevitable.
Right.
And, if she were honest, she really wanted Grif.
Thanking the receptionist, he turned to Nicole. "Ready?"
Any more ready, and she'd be naked right there in the lobby. But to reassure herself
that she was doing the right thing, she got up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
The contact zapped her even though she'd meant it to be light. This was why they were in the Four Seasons, taking such a big chance with their friendship.
This crazy electric thing between them.
He hummed, his hand gripping her hair. "It's not too late to back out."
She thought about the kiss and remembered being draped across his body early that
one morning. She'd be out of her mind to back down now. Marley would never forgive
her.
So she did the only logical thing: she pressed herself against him and kissed him
again with all the nervous eagerness in her body.
He groaned with a hunger that excited her, catching her up in his arms. "It's going
to be great, Nic," he murmured against her mouth.
Yes . Nodding, she led him to the elevator.
When they reached their floor, instead of leading her to their room, he surprised
her by lifting her into his arms and carrying her. Without releasing her, he opened
the door and headed straight to the bed, lowering her and following directly on top
of her.
She sighed, loving the weight of his body on her. She tugged his shirt up and touched
his naked back, hooking her legs in the crook of his knees to keep him close.
Leaning on one arm, he pushed up all her layers—coat and shirt—until his hand cupped
her breast over her bra. His fingers teased her nipple to standing through the thin
lace, rolling and massaging until she was writhing under him.
"Grif," she gasped, trying to get closer to him.
"Yes?" He nibbled on her collarbone.
"I need more."
"I can give you more." He sat up, undid her pants, and pulled them and her underwear
down. Then he dumped condoms out from his pocket and unbuttoned his jeans.
She stared at the condoms littering the bed. "Planning ahead?"
"It's called hope." He pulled his erection out and covered it in one of the rubbers.
Nicole wanted to tell him she had a clean bill of health and was on the pill, but
maybe this was better. It was a symbolic barrier — a reminder not to get too close.
Grif worked her coat and top off and then slid his finger under the strap of her exposed
bra. "I'm torn between asking you to model this for me and tearing it off you."
"That's a dilemma."
"I'm not sure I can last through a show. Can I get a rain-check? For next time?"
"There's going to be a next time?"
"I know I'm jumping the gun, but based on the events so far, I'm willing to bet that
we'll want a next time. Maybe you'll even model something you've designed yourself."
She stilled. "What?"
He had the grace to look abashed. "I may have snooped. But before you get bent out
of shape, your lingerie designs are incredible. I especially like the sheer black
one."
"You weren't supposed to look,"
started drooling, she obviously hadn't see beyond his disguise. "Do you have a reservation,
Mr...?"
"Gallagher. Roddy Gallagher." He pulled out an American Express card out of his wallet.
As he handed it over, Nicole glanced at the name. Sure enough, it had the fake name
Grif used. She arched her brows at him.
He squeezed her hand and focused his charm on the woman.
Who batted her eyes shamelessly. "Thank you, Mr. Gallagher. For how many nights?"
"One night," he replied as though he showed up in hotels after midnight with a woman
in tow all the time.
Nicole didn't like that thought.
Was this a bad idea? Maybe she shouldn't be there.
But even as she had the thought, she knew there was no question that she was going
to go through with this. She wasn't promiscuous, always taking care in picking who
she ended up with, and this was happening way faster than normal. But it felt inevitable.
Right.
And, if she were honest, she really wanted Grif.
Thanking the receptionist, he turned to Nicole. "Ready?"
Any more ready, and she'd be naked right there in the lobby. But to reassure herself
that she was doing the right thing, she got up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
The contact zapped her even though she'd meant it to be light. This was why they were in the Four Seasons, taking such a big chance with their friendship.
This crazy electric thing between them.
He hummed, his hand gripping her hair. "It's not too late to back out."
She thought about the kiss and remembered being draped across his body early that
one morning. She'd be out of her mind to back down now. Marley would never forgive
her.
So she did the only logical thing: she pressed herself against him and kissed him
again with all the nervous eagerness in her body.
He groaned with a hunger that excited her, catching her up in his arms. "It's going
to be great, Nic," he murmured against her mouth.
Yes . Nodding, she led him to the elevator.
When they reached their floor, instead of leading her to their room, he surprised
her by lifting her into his arms and carrying her. Without releasing her, he opened
the door and headed straight to the bed, lowering her and following directly on top
of her.
She sighed, loving the weight of his body on her. She tugged his shirt up and touched
his naked back, hooking her legs in the crook of his knees to keep him close.
Leaning on one arm, he pushed up all her layers—coat and shirt—until his hand cupped
her breast over her bra. His fingers teased her nipple to standing through the thin
lace, rolling and massaging until she was writhing under him.
"Grif," she gasped, trying to get closer to him.
"Yes?" He nibbled on her collarbone.
"I need more."
"I can give you more." He sat up, undid her pants, and pulled them and her underwear
down. Then he dumped condoms out from his pocket and unbuttoned his jeans.
She stared at the condoms littering the bed. "Planning ahead?"
"It's called hope." He pulled his erection out and covered it in one of the rubbers.
Nicole wanted to tell him she had a clean bill of health and was on the pill, but
maybe this was better. It was a symbolic barrier — a reminder not to get too close.
Grif worked her coat and top off and then slid his finger under the strap of her exposed
bra. "I'm torn between asking you to model this for me and tearing it off you."
"That's a dilemma."
"I'm not sure I can last through a show. Can I get a rain-check? For next time?"
"There's going to be a next time?"
"I know I'm jumping the gun, but based on the events so far, I'm willing to bet that
we'll want a next time. Maybe you'll even model something you've designed yourself."
She stilled. "What?"
He had the grace to look abashed. "I may have snooped. But before you get bent out
of shape, your lingerie designs are incredible. I especially like the sheer black
one."
"You weren't supposed to look,"
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