What should she do? Let him in? Lock the doors?
She decided to crack the window. A little. “What are you doing in the rain?”
“You can’t stay in your car all night. It’s not safe.”
“Getting out isn’t either.”
“You’re under a tree in lightning.”
“You’re in the rain,” she argued.
“Trying to get you out of it.”
“I am out of it.”
“I’m not,” he said testily. His long hair was plastered to his face. “Come inside with me. I promise it’ll be safer than here.”
Water was splattering in her face. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He gave her a steady stare despite the water splashing around him. “You don’t.” Pause. “Room 112.”
Then he turned and walked away.
Two
She called after the stranger as he walked away. “How’d you know I was out here?”
But he didn’t turn, didn’t answer.
Jessica sat there, fretting. Had she not wished for an opportunity to be alone with the very man who just welcomed her to his room? A man who offered to spare her a scary night alone in a car, under a tree, in an electrical storm?
Then thunder boomed overhead. She jumped and reached for the door.
Somehow, a night alone with her sexy stranger sounded better than a night alone in her car. Not thinking, just acting, she stomped through the rain, her purse the only item she carried with her.
Once she was at room 112, she stood before the door, dripping wet, hair stuck to her face and stared at the number sign. Maybe this was a bad idea? What if he was a serial killer, or a rapist, or…
The door opened.
Her mouth dropped. There stood her stranger with no shirt on, looking like a poster for the world’s sexiest man. His hair hung in damp strands around his face, barely brushing the tops of his muscular shoulders. He held a towel in his hand and interest in his eyes.
“Come in,” he said, stepping backward and holding the door open for her. For the first time she realized he had a distinct Hispanic accent. Not too strong, but evident enough to slip into her mind and entice a response.
She was so soaked in rainwater that she literally dripped.
“I’m wet,” she said, feeling the need to state the obvious.
He smiled, a slow, sensual smile that said he read into her words. “Thanks for the warning.” He held up his towel, offering it to her. “I think we’ll manage.”
The room was lit by only one small light. In a quick glance over his shoulder, Jessica took in the shadows created by the light dancing seductively on the walls. She barely glanced at the rest of the room, so mesmerized was she by this man. One thing she was now certain of, he was alone.
Licking the wetness from her lips, she accepted the towel, the intimacy of sharing it hard to ignore. Rubbing her hair, she stepped tentatively through the doorway.
His eyes, dark and mysteriously sexy, followed her path. He stood directly in front of her and didn’t seem inclined to move. Arm reaching over her shoulder, he pushed the door shut.
The action put him so close their faces came mere inches apart. The towel was forgotten. She could feel him even without ever physically claiming to touch. His scent, a woodsy, clean smell wrapped around her, enhancing the feeling of invisible touches.
Their eyes locked. Slowly, he took the towel from her hand and wrapped it around her, holding it on either side of her body and cocooning them together. “I’m glad you decided to come inside, mi Hermosa.”
She gulped. He had said something complimentary in Spanish. She knew that much. And for some reason, it really got to her. Someone else could have said those words and they just wouldn’t have set her on fire the way they did from him.
Soft, sexy and incredible arousing, his voice danced along her nerve endings. She reached for words, struggling to speak coherently. “I’m still not sure I should be here.”
“No?” he asked, his eyes searching her face. “I think you want to be here.” He let the towel rest on her shoulders and ran a finger down her cheek.
The touch should have scared her. The whole situation should have. Instead, she felt oddly exhilarated; in fact, she had never felt so alive and eager. Eager for what? was the question. A question she definitely wanted answered.
A tiny little light flickered in her mind. Maybe this man, this incredibly alluring stranger, held within him a means of escape from her past. Alone in a hotel with a man she hardly knew wasn’t her style. But then neither was divorce.
Circumstances had delivered her here, alone in a motel room, with a man as sexy as any of her best fantasies. Looking into this man’s obsidian eyes, she began to wonder if he could take her beyond her insecurities.
This seemed a rare opportunity to find a new her. And damn, she needed a new her. She hated how her ex had made her feel. In her professional world, she knew how to put on a show. How to seem strong and secure. But when it came to intimacy between a man and a woman, the past didn’t let go. Insecurity ruled.
A knowing look slipped into her stranger’s eyes. He repeated his words, an edge of understanding now in his voice. “Yes,” he said softly. “You want to be here.”
For the first time, in far too long, everything woman in her was awake and alert. She wanted this man. She didn’t know his name, didn’t know a thing about him, but she wanted him. “I have to be here.”
One corner of his mouth lifted, and his finger slid down her neck. “Not so. You have choices.” He paused a beat. “You’re in no danger with me.” His eyes, which had been following the path of his finger, lifted to hers. She felt his hand settle around her neck, gently touching her. “Whatever you want, you can have without fear. Comprendes?”
She didn’t know what to say. His face was slowly descending, and her moment of decision was upon her. If she kissed him, she would want more. Did she want to? Could she abandon reason and fall into this man’s arms?
Head swimming in confusion and desire, she couldn’t think. Just knowing his lips were about to be upon hers, she felt her nipples harden and throb. Wet and now aroused, they pressed against her bra, begging to be touched. The feeling sent a wave of heat across her skin and settled with a not-so-subtle impact between her thighs.
She wanted this. She wanted him.
His lips lingered above hers, breath mingled with her own, teasing her anticipation. And she understood the purpose. Understood his hesitation was a question.
Yes or no?
Thoughts, fears and a few remnants of logic raced through her mind. It was her body, though, that held the answer. Desire and physical need was controlling her, not rational thought. She let her purse slide off her shoulder, onto the ground. Then, she inched forward ever so slightly and pressed her lips to his.
Her decision was made.
It was a gentle kiss, lips pressed to lips.
He leaned back and looked at her and then whispered something in Spanish before feathering kisses on her lips. One, two, three… and then he dipped his tongue into her mouth. She felt the light brush of it against her own. She whimpered.
Jessica’s eyes fell shut and he slowly, perfectly, seduced her with his kiss. Hands at her sides, she longed to touch him. He closed the remaining space between their bodies, bringing them thigh-to-thigh and hip-to-hip.
Proof of his arousal pressed against her stomach. A thought, provocative and arousing, danced in her head.
He was hard for her.
It was an empowering realization. This sexy man wanted her. She had aroused him, made him hot for her. Suddenly, a one-night stand, no strings attached, felt liberating.
Her hands went to his waist, and the feel of his skin under her palms ignited the need to feel more. She touched him freely then, feeling the flex of muscles under her palms.