He’s lying back against the pillows, completely relaxed, eyes dark with satisfaction. He looks like he wants to drag me back down by the ankles and start all over.
And the horrifying part is that I might let him.
I plant my feet on the floor and stand.
For approximately one second, I feel triumphant.
Then I take a step and immediately understand what he meant.
My legs wobble. Not dramatically. Not enough to fall. But enough that my knees feel unreliable, and the soreness between my legs flares with a sweet, sharp reminder.
Antonio laughs once, low, delighted.
“Stop laughing,” I say throughmy teeth.
He pushes himself upright, slower now, like he’s enjoying the view. “I’m not laughing.”
“You are.”
He steps closer, wraps an arm around my waist, and steadies me with a grip that’s gentle but possessive. His mouth brushes my shoulder. “You’re adorable.”
“I’m not adorable,” I say automatically, and then I make the mistake of shifting against him.
The contact lights something up between my legs, and I inhale sharply.
Antonio’s hand tightens at my waist. “Oh,” he murmurs, pleased.
“Do not,” I warn again, voice shaky now.
He kisses the side of my neck. “Do not what?”
“Do not start,” I say, because I can feel myself sliding.
He hums, like he’s thinking about it. “You’re the one who stood up and showed me all of this.”
“I have to leave,” I insist.
He kisses my jaw. “I’m not stopping you,” he murmurs, lips busy on my skin.
I turn my head back and up to his, because I’m not a saint, and kiss him. My fingers find their way into the hair at the back of his neck, and I lean back against him for a minute with a wistful moan.
Whenhe pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine. “I don’t like your meeting.”
“I don’t like it either,” I whisper.
He kisses me again. Another long, hungry kiss that makes my knees go weak, and I hate how predictable my body is.
“I need to get dressed,” I remind myself, and him.
“Fine.” He exhales, then steps back as if it costs him. “Did you drive here last night?”
I walk over to my dress as Antonio walks around the bed to the phone.
“No, I took a cab,” I say, bending to pick up my dress. The movement makes me wince.
I hear him talking to room service on the other end, ordering coffee to be brought up within the next five minutes.
I doubt they’ll make it. I’ve stayed in a lot of hotels, and I’ve never had room service snap to it like that.