When she stood there looking confused and not saying anything, he took her arm and guided her out of the coffee shop. “Maybe we need to sit in the lobby and talk about this. It’s not too late to back out.”
“Yes, it is. I’ve asked you to have sex with me. We couldn’t possibly pretend I’d never done that.”
“We’d have a much better chance of pretending if we don’t go upstairs. But going upstairs is pretty much going to blow the lid off any chance of maintaining the status quo.”
She turned, looking adorably troubled as she faced him. “Do you want to back out?”
“I—”
“Sir!”
Alec turned as the waiter rushed out, heading their way. The bottom dropped out of Alec’s stomach as he imagined that his credit card had been rejected for being over the limit. He’d thought he had room, but maybe not.
“You forgot your card,” the waiter said.
That was only marginally better. He was solvent, but he’d managed to look like a moron in front of a woman he wanted to impress with his coolness. “Thank you.” He took the card and shoved it into his pants pocket. No, he wasn’t rattled. Not him. Not much.
“I’m glad they discovered it now,” Molly said after the waiter left.
“I can’t believe I left it there. You must think I’m—”
“I think you’re nervous. Like me.”
He looked into her eyes and thought that he hadn’t done that nearly enough in the past six months. If they went through with this, he might have a few more hours of that privilege, and then he’d probably have to give her up. “Could be. This is a big step we’re contemplating.”
“Do you want to reconsider?”
“Molly, I want it all. I want this afternoon, and I want to keep being your driver.” And your lover.
She nodded, making her red-gold curls bounce. “Me, too. That’s what I want.”
“But it’s not realistic.” In that moment he knew his choice. Reckless urges rolled through him. Right here in the middle of the lobby he was tempted to bury his fingers in her hair and pull her close so he could kiss those full lips. “You’re the one in charge. You need to choose.” Choose this. Choose making love until we can’t see straight. Let tomorrow take care of itself.
Her gaze searched his. “Then I choose this afternoon.”
His pulse leaped. “You’re sure?”
“I want to find out who I become when…when you hold me.”
His brain stalled, immobilized by that seductive image. “Oh, Molly.”
“I’m going up now.” She tucked the key folder inside the plastic bag of food. “I’ll see you soon.”
SHE’D STARTED OUT wanting to have an afternoon of wild sex with Alec so she could begin to improve her writing. Somewhere along the way her motivation had changed to something else. Now she wanted this not only for her writing, but for herself.
Although she’d never been part of the anything-goes crowd in Hollywood, she’d secretly envied those free spirits. Here was her chance to cut loose without the danger of the paparazzi showing up. She deserved to know what she was capable of sexually, and she believed Alec was the man who could show her.
That didn’t mean she was filled with confidence as she rode the elevator to the ninth floor and located the room down a carpeted hallway. Growing up in an uninhibited atmosphere, she’d protected her sensitive soul by wearing her own inhibitions like a suit of armor. The thought of shedding it scared her to death.
She’d also spent a lifetime, except for her visits to Connecticut, being recognized as the daughter of a celebrity. That feeling was hard to shake, and she imagined that anyone seeing her would know immediately what she planned to do with her afternoon. Thankfully she passed no one on the way.
She’d never checked into a hotel for one night without a bit of luggage, either. At the desk she’d made up a story of suitcases lost by the airline, but she didn’t think the clerk had believed her. Her stuttering over the explanation hadn’t helped.
Well, here she was, key card in hand, standing in front of the door to a whole new world. She had the urge to run the other way. But then she would miss this perfect opportunity to become the woman who’d peeked out from the pages of her manuscript, a woman who wanted more than mediocre sex.
If she didn’t follow through with her plan, she might be doomed to write cozy mysteries for Dana Kyle forever. Worse yet, she’d have blown her chance to discover, after countless hours of imagining, what the flesh-and-blood Alec was like in bed. She might never find another man who fueled her fantasies the way he did. He’d inspired her to write an entire book without laying a hand on her. Once they’d made love, she might never stop typing.
Straightening her spine, she slid the key card into the slot, waited for the blinking green light and opened the door. The room was furnished in dark woods and pseudo-antiques. A four-poster bed held a luxury mattress and box springs that elevated the top edge to about…crotch height. Of course she’d think of that. Pulse racing, she closed the door and automatically flipped the privacy latch into place. Then she remembered that Alec had to be able to get in and switched it back.
Her stomach did a few flips as she realized he could be here any minute, and the room looked far too prissy to be the scene of a wild seduction. Walking quickly over to the high bed, she tossed back the covers. Better. Then she pulled the drapes and turned on one lamp in the corner, across the room from the bed. There would be light, but not a glare.
Kicking off her shoes, she pulled up her skirt and shoved down her panty hose. Absolutely nothing was less sexy than panty hose. They didn’t look sexy going on or off, so she shoved them into her purse, not wanting to spoil the mood by tugging them back on later.
God, she was trembling like a leaf. Deep breaths. She paused and dragged in air until she started getting light-headed. Okay, that wasn’t working.
Think, Molly. Think. What else should she do to get ready? Take off everything and get into bed? No, she wanted to find out if Alec knew how to undress a woman. Her fantasy included a man who could navigate buttons and zippers with finesse, while making it perfectly clear that he’d rather tear her clothes off.
However, she had a competing fantasy in which a man wallowed in his baser instincts and sent buttons scampering over the carpet as he uncovered what he was after. She imagined his deep groan of impatience and the satisfying rip of delicate material by hands trembling with passion. Unfortunately, leaving the hotel in an outfit that had been reduced to rags wasn’t part of her fantasy, so she’d better make sure Alec didn’t ruin her clothes in a fit of lust.
Maybe she should give him a little head start on the process. At least the shoes and the panty hose were gone. She studied herself in the mirror. Her silk suit jacket was meant to stay buttoned, and underneath she wore a really boring bra.
She’d been thinking about that bra ever since she’d had the idea of seducing Alec today. When she’d picked that one out of the drawer this morning, she’d been going for comfort. She’d expected to spend the day riding the train, not cavorting in a hotel room with Alec. The debate of comfort versus style hadn’t been an issue.
Maybe if she partly undressed, that would be provocative enough. She experimented with unfastening the top button, then the top two buttons. At last she undid all the buttons. Well, that wasn’t any good. Underneath that black silk was that stupid plain bra.
Aha.