They rode up the three floors, making out like teenagers, his hand up her shirt. When the door opened, she pushed him out her way and ran ahead of him. He chased her down the hallway to his room. He grabbed her hips and pushed her back behind him. She suppressed a scream of indignation and ran after him. “Cheater!” she whispered. He laughed and she clamped a hand over his mouth. She passed him again and turned the corner, looking for his room number.
“It's like a maze!” she exclaimed as quietly as possible. He turned and ran back down the hallway, realizing they had gone the wrong way. She clenched her fists. She hated that he was going to win. She followed him and caught up just as he was swiping the keycard in the door. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his room.
With the door safely closed behind them, she slapped his arm. “You cheated!” He grinned like a fiend and turned on the lamp. The room was swankier than hers, she noticed. He had a bigger seating room and a balcony. “Wow, this is fancy.”
He shrugged. “I like yours better. But I'm biased.” He pinched her ass and sauntered into the bedroom, his pants riding low on his hips. She followed him, looking around.
“ Did William upgrade your room and not mine?” she asked, curious and not a little pissed. Christophe passed his closet, where his suits hung color-coded. He opened the dresser drawer, where his clothes were neatly folded.
“ No. I did.”
“ Asshole!” She ran her hand over his suits in the closet.
“ I thought it might entice you to my room.” He smiled, pulling out a pair of jeans.
“ Right. Then why have we been in my room?”
“ It was your call.” He shrugged. “In the elevator, you asked if I would come to your room for a drink. The rest is history.” In the light, she noticed a jagged red scar on his shoulder blade and upper arm. She closed the gap between them and couldn't resist reaching out to explore the scars.
“ Where'd you get these?” She asked.
“ A car accident when I was 17.” He flexed his muscle under her hand. “Broken arm and cuts. Nothing too serious.”
“ Crashed daddy's Jag?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, a wry smile on his face.
“ It was a Porsche, actually.”
“ Mmm-hmm.” She couldn't pull her hand away from his skin. She dropped it to his side, where a large black tattoo was inked into his flesh. “And this?”
“ That was my surfing phase,” he said, his breath catching in his throat as she traced the black markings. “I went to Hawaii for a year after grad school.”
“ I remember,” she murmured.
“ You were keeping tabs on me?” He smiled.
“ Your expense reports come across my desk.” She shrugged.
“ Why?” His brow furrowed.
“ Because I requested them,” she said, not meeting his eyes. For a moment, she was scared he would be angry with her. What was that about? She usually liked to make him angry. But she felt like she was showing him a secret part of herself that wasn't very flattering. She didn't want him to think less of her.
“ Stalker,” he said, his voice dangerously low. She realized he was laughing at her. She forced herself to look him in the eye. His blue eyes danced with amusement. She bit her lip. “Don't worry, baby. You won't have to keep tabs on me anymore.” He kissed her nose.
“ Why's that?”
“ Because I'm coming to stay with you in New York.” He laughed. She poked him in his hard stomach.
“ You wish!”
***
Annata ran out into the snow, her boots sinking in the wet crush. At least a foot of snow had fallen in a matter of hours. She bent at the waist, scooping up a handful and lobbed it at Christophe's head. He ducked behind a car parked at the curb. She darted to the other side, scooping up more snow. She tiptoed toward him, trying to be as quiet as possible. He stuck his head up and chucked a snowball at her. She shrieked as it missed her face, but exploded
“It's like a maze!” she exclaimed as quietly as possible. He turned and ran back down the hallway, realizing they had gone the wrong way. She clenched her fists. She hated that he was going to win. She followed him and caught up just as he was swiping the keycard in the door. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his room.
With the door safely closed behind them, she slapped his arm. “You cheated!” He grinned like a fiend and turned on the lamp. The room was swankier than hers, she noticed. He had a bigger seating room and a balcony. “Wow, this is fancy.”
He shrugged. “I like yours better. But I'm biased.” He pinched her ass and sauntered into the bedroom, his pants riding low on his hips. She followed him, looking around.
“ Did William upgrade your room and not mine?” she asked, curious and not a little pissed. Christophe passed his closet, where his suits hung color-coded. He opened the dresser drawer, where his clothes were neatly folded.
“ No. I did.”
“ Asshole!” She ran her hand over his suits in the closet.
“ I thought it might entice you to my room.” He smiled, pulling out a pair of jeans.
“ Right. Then why have we been in my room?”
“ It was your call.” He shrugged. “In the elevator, you asked if I would come to your room for a drink. The rest is history.” In the light, she noticed a jagged red scar on his shoulder blade and upper arm. She closed the gap between them and couldn't resist reaching out to explore the scars.
“ Where'd you get these?” She asked.
“ A car accident when I was 17.” He flexed his muscle under her hand. “Broken arm and cuts. Nothing too serious.”
“ Crashed daddy's Jag?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, a wry smile on his face.
“ It was a Porsche, actually.”
“ Mmm-hmm.” She couldn't pull her hand away from his skin. She dropped it to his side, where a large black tattoo was inked into his flesh. “And this?”
“ That was my surfing phase,” he said, his breath catching in his throat as she traced the black markings. “I went to Hawaii for a year after grad school.”
“ I remember,” she murmured.
“ You were keeping tabs on me?” He smiled.
“ Your expense reports come across my desk.” She shrugged.
“ Why?” His brow furrowed.
“ Because I requested them,” she said, not meeting his eyes. For a moment, she was scared he would be angry with her. What was that about? She usually liked to make him angry. But she felt like she was showing him a secret part of herself that wasn't very flattering. She didn't want him to think less of her.
“ Stalker,” he said, his voice dangerously low. She realized he was laughing at her. She forced herself to look him in the eye. His blue eyes danced with amusement. She bit her lip. “Don't worry, baby. You won't have to keep tabs on me anymore.” He kissed her nose.
“ Why's that?”
“ Because I'm coming to stay with you in New York.” He laughed. She poked him in his hard stomach.
“ You wish!”
***
Annata ran out into the snow, her boots sinking in the wet crush. At least a foot of snow had fallen in a matter of hours. She bent at the waist, scooping up a handful and lobbed it at Christophe's head. He ducked behind a car parked at the curb. She darted to the other side, scooping up more snow. She tiptoed toward him, trying to be as quiet as possible. He stuck his head up and chucked a snowball at her. She shrieked as it missed her face, but exploded
Similar Books
