9. Montana

Natalie was right.

My approach was all wrong. This was not supposed to be the beginning of a great romance. All I had was tonight. He was a stranger in town and tomorrow he would be gone from my life forever. There was no need to get to know each other better. The less I knew about him the better.

He should be nothing more than a magnificent body with no last name, history, or personality. Talking to him about God or feeling I was making a connection on a deeper level was just madness.

As I reached him, he turned to look at me. When his gaze unashamedly lingered on my cleavage it made my teeth ache with lust.

“I, uh ... we should get going to your room,” I said.

He cocked his head in surprise, and to be honest, I couldn’t believe such bold, nonchalant words had come out of my mouth either. I could feel hot color rising up my neck and rushing into my face.

He smiled … slowly, languorously. And the effect was magical, like the doors of a cage opening, or warm sunshine pouring in through the open windows on the first day of spring. It spread into every part of me. At that moment it felt as if all the damage in the world had been healed. Beautiful heat simmered and pooled in the pit of my belly.

‘Surely, this is not what one-night stands are about,’ a little voice in my head said, but here we were.

I was so mesmerized by him that when he offered his hand to me, I intertwined my fingers intimately with his. So weird, but all I could think about was kissing him. He pulled me towards him until I was flush with his hard body. It was overly sexual to be this way with a man in a bar, but it felt right.

He led me towards the side door that led to the foyer of the hotel.

Soon, we were standing side by side in front of a highly polished wooden staircase. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I was thinking, these freaking slippery steps, these murderous shoes. I’d just decided to take my shoes off and walk up on my bare feet when …

“Oh,” I exclaimed, shocked. He had suddenly swept me off my feet and nestled me inside his strong arms.

“Can’t have you breaking your neck,” he murmured close to my ear.

“You’re not planning to carry me up the stairs, are you?” I protested, still stunned, although my hands were already curled around his neck.

“Got a better idea?”

“I could take my shoes off and walk barefoot up the stairs.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Your feet might be going in my mouth soon.”

I gasped at the idea, but he looked down at me with a teasing smile.

And so it happened that Cole carried me up the stairs. I felt as if I’d been transported to another time; when men were big and strong and women were fragile and had to be protected. I could feel the hardness of his body and my heart raced in my chest. I was Scarlett O’Hara being carried off by Rhett Butler. A little voice warned, ‘Gone with the Wind didn’t end well for Scarlett. She didn’t get her man’.

He transported me down a corridor and set me down in front of a door marked 23. Turning a clunky metal key in the door, he pushed it open and stood aside.

I took my shoes off and carrying them my hand walked into the room.

It was decorated in the French bordello style; massive King-size bed, dark furniture, and blood-red drapes. My eyes returned to the bed and I was suddenly so hot I felt as if I had a fever. I didn’t dare look at him.

I unceremoniously dropped Pearl’s poor shoes and tried to think what I should say or do to appear experienced and sophisticated, but my brain had turned to mush, and my mouth started to spit out the most stupid stuff. Even though I knew I was babbling nonsense I couldn’t stop myself.

“Did you know the bar downstairs and these rooms are meant to be a recreation of the saloon bars of the Old West? Dancing girls used to bring their customers; gamblers, gunfighters, and pickpockets, up here. A hot bath would cost 50 cents and a cold bath 35 cents. Soap was ten cents and a clean towel was-”

His hand had shot out, grasped my wrist, and yanked me so hard, that my body slammed into his. His mouth swooped down on mine, eating up the nonsense flowing from my mouth. He tasted of whiskey and his lips were warm, soft and sweet. I held his stubble-roughened cheeks between my palms and completely melted.

His arms slid around my waist and tightened as his tongue darted over my lips. I groaned as he explored my mouth. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and bit it. I gasped, and suddenly thekiss changed. It was no longer exploring, but taking.

Mymouth was crushed possessively.

I was stunned. Letting go of his face, my hands roamed over his powerful shoulders and the steely muscles of his arms, my brain exploding with pleasure and awe.

I’d never been kissed like this.

My breath came out in a hiss, and he thrust his tongue into my mouth. Something inside me snapped, and I lost control. I sucked his tongue mindlessly. This, this was what I’d wanted all along, all night long, from the first moment our gazes touched. He ran hishandsover my back, my butt.

I moaned, thrusting my tongue into hismouth. Asking for him to suck it. He didn’t disappoint.

The lust was simply incredible. It was a thing that had a mind of its own. It made my head sing and my blood roar in my ears. We were both panting, grunting… desperate. The ache between my thighs had become urgent. I moaned, throwing my head back, ready to lose myself inhim, but he stopped suddenly.

My heart clenched. ”No. Don’t stop,” I moaned restlessly.

He separated from me, but he didn’t take his hand off my skin, and that made me more aware of him than I could describe. It was as though that smoldering heat and connection between us were searing my skin. It was both wonderful and fearsome at the same time.

“You have done this before, right?” he asked, his forehead creased in a frown.