Pleasure Payback. Zara Cox

at large and me in particular whenever she’d had more than a few. Much as I’d told myself that it was the alcohol talking, the barbs she’d thrown my way had found their mark.

      Thoughts of my mother dampened my mood. Tucking my purse under my arm, I turned to the bartender. ‘Put the drinks on my room, please. Suite 6799.’

      I felt Mortimer move, his shadow looming closer. My insides tightened, my pussy throbbing at the thought of further tussling with him.

      But as much as I wanted that thrill, my screaming instincts had other ideas. Curbing the need for one last thirst-quenching look, I turned on my heel and walked out of the bar.

      Twenty minutes later, fresh from a hot shower, I shrugged into the complimentary satin robe, tying the belt loosely around my waist. Drawn to the spectacular view, I was halfway across the carpeted suite when the hard triple-rap on the door froze my steps.

      For some absurd reason my pulse jumped. It could be many things. The concierge delivering my final bill before I checked out tomorrow. The complimentary turn-down service listed among the numerous guest perks.

      Still, my blood thrummed with excitement as I pulled the door open.

      He stood with hands rammed deep into his pockets, his hair a little dishevelled and his tie still loose, exposing the beginnings of a mouth-watering, hair-dusted chest.

      For a pulse-racing stretch of time, we stared at each other, neither of us making a move.

      ‘You shouldn’t blurt out your room number in front of strangers,’ he rasped, his gaze climbing from my legs to clash with mine.

      ‘Even the stranger whose hotel I’m staying in?’

      Only the fleeting gleam in his eyes said I’d correctly guessed his identity. ‘Especially him.’

      ‘Thanks for the tip. And thanks for installing the peephole and latch to ensure I have the choice of only opening the door to people I feel I can trust.’

      A muscle ticced in his jaw, a telltale sign that he was fighting urges or demons. ‘You think you can trust me, Neve Nolan?’

      It shouldn’t have made me hot and wet, the fact that a powerful man like him had taken the time to find out my name. But, boy, did it.

      I shrugged, and when the robe slipped off one shoulder to reveal my upper arm and the slope of one breast, I didn’t adjust it. I stood stock-still and let his gaze caress skin I’d exposed.

      He stared long and hard. Then cursed tightly. ‘Bloody hell, I shouldn’t be here,’ he muttered, his fingers clawing through his hair.

      He started to turn away.

      Something sharp and urgent pierced me. ‘And yet here you are.’

      He froze. Lust and something harsh swirled through his eyes as our gazes reconnected. ‘Tell me to leave you alone, Neve.’

      I shrugged again, projecting calm I didn’t feel. I didn’t want him to walk away but I wasn’t going to beg. ‘You’re a big boy. If you don’t want to be here, you know where the elevator is. If not...’ I left the sentence hanging, released the door handle and turned my back on him for the second time in under an hour.

      I wasn’t one for calling bluffs. Yet something urged me to challenge this towering force of a man caught between desire and demons. I put the distance of the suite between us and made it to the window and the view beyond. But not even the spectacular vista of night-time Boston could divert my senses from his solid, overwhelming presence.

      The door closed with a sharp snick and my pulse leapt. Through the window’s reflection, I watched him prowl towards me. He arrived behind me and stopped, saying nothing, his sandalwood and earthy scent swathing me.

      Between one breath and the next, he spun me around, long, lean fingers meshing into my loose hair, gripping it tight enough to send delicious tingles to my pussy. Slowly he tipped my head back, stared deep into my eyes. ‘You’re an exceptionally beautiful woman, Neve.’

      ‘Thank you,’ I murmured, lava-thick lust oozing inside me.

      He nodded, a brittle little gesture incongruent with the liquid heat in his eyes. ‘But you should be debating the wisdom of letting me entangle you in my life. I’m having a very bad day, you see,’ he grated, then gave a hard laugh. ‘Scratch that. I’m having a very bad fucking year.’

      ‘I can tell. On the flip side, I’m having a pretty good one, with the expectation of a great one tomorrow. The way I see it, we can balance each other out brilliantly. I don’t want to celebrate alone and you don’t want to sink into that hell I see swirling in your eyes. Correct?’

      He drew closer, wedged one thickly muscled thigh between my legs. My burning centre rubbed against his leg and at the moan I let loose, his cock thickened against my hip. ‘Beautiful, irresistible and intuitive. Where did you come from, Neve Nolan?’

      I blinked up at him and smiled when his cock jerked against my leg. ‘Connecticut. I’m here in your lovely city for one night only.’

      He laughed under his breath. ‘This isn’t my city. I’m visiting too.’

      ‘Then let’s make the most of it,’ I replied.

      He pondered that for a few seconds, and a little of the chaos in his eyes abated. ‘Ships passing in the night, and all that?’

      ‘Hmm. But it would also help if you told me your first name.’

      One eyebrow spiked. ‘Help with what, exactly?’

      ‘With whose name I scream when you’re balls-deep inside me. Or would you like me to scream some random name?’

      His fingers tightened a fraction, enough to shower me with fresh waves of decadent tingles. ‘No, darling, I most certainly would not. The name you’ll want when you hit that special place is Damian.’

      I reached for my belt and tugged the ends free. The robe parted enough for him to see I was completely naked underneath.

      Enough to draw a rough sound from his throat.

      ‘Nice to meet you, Damian. Now take off your clothes.’

      He didn’t comply. Not immediately. His gaze dropped to my mouth for the longest time, his eyelids half masts of sinful need he couldn’t hide as he released my hair and stepped back. Impatient fingers tugged his tie free and made short work of his shirt. Belt, shoes and socks followed. In less than a minute, Damian Mortimer was down to his boxers.

      He was exceptionally built. Ripped in all the right places with a happy trail that drew my gaze down to the thick erection pressed against soft cotton.

      Need flooded my system. Hard and fast and merciless. Enough to make me groan and slide my fingers over my belly to the furnace raging between my legs. He gave a thick curse as his gaze latched onto the brazen movement of my fingers.

      I was wet. Soaking. And I was more than enjoying the rabid look in his eyes as he watched me caress myself.

      He groaned, almost as if against his will.

      ‘You like that?’

      One large hand curled around his cock and stroked. ‘Fuck, yes.’

      With my free hand, I shucked off my robe. My shoulders met the cool glass and I gasped as my nipples peaked to painful points. ‘Come here, Damian.’

      Lust propelled him forward, even as a hard look lanced through his eyes. It was that same look I’d seen at the bar after I bought him the drink. But I didn’t care. Not enough to stop and examine it. We were both adults and this was a one-night-only thing.

      Hands braced on either side of my shoulders, his breathing harsh and frantic, he stared down at the busy fingers between my legs. I raised my chin, aligned my face to his in silent command.

      With