I scramble off the bed and sift through hangers in the hotel closet until I find the black halter-top cocktail dress I brought in case I neededa dressier outfit. The top is fitted with a skirt that somewhat flares at the bottom and has an eye-drawing slit up the front. I hope Bennett wishes he never asked me to leave this room when he sees me in it.
Why in the hell did I open my big mouth and put a “no crossing the line” rule in place? I’m blaming it on the panic and fear I had from flying for the first time. Am I pathetic for wanting to say fuck it and make an amendment? Perhaps, but there’s just no way I’ll be able to resist Bennett for three freaking years. Just the thought of that alone is like actual torture.
I’ve just clasped the eye fastener on my top when a knock sounds at the door. I quickly spray my Chanel No. 5 onto my wrist and dab it across my pulse points before grabbing my black Saint Laurent clutch off my bed and stepping into my black Christian Louboutin pumps.
A second later I open the door to find a devastatingly handsome Bennett standing with his shoulder leaned against the doorframe, the picture of casual sexiness. He looks like maybe he’s showered and trimmed his beard since the flight. His hair is now pushed back and styled in a way that makes me crave to run my fingers through it and mess it up. My core clenches as I take in the way his sage cashmere sweater clings to his chest and biceps. He’s got the damn sleeves pulled up, exposing his delicious forearms, with his hands in his pockets. He’s still wearing his suit pants and dress shoes, and the sight of him looking effortlessly polished has me weak in the knees.
Damn him and his good looks; I wanted to be the one to knock him off his feet. And damn me for making that stupid rule.
“Red,” he lets out in a low whisper, his eyes smoldering as he takes me in.
Well, I’ll be damned. Warmth and longing I haven’t felt in six years have me flexing my stomach to contain the butterflies threatening tobreak free. It takes everything in me not to shout the thoughts screaming in my head.I take back the damn rule. Fuck me right here. Right now.
“You don’t clean up so bad yourself, Benny Boy.” My cheeks burn under his aching gaze. “Shall we?” I ask him before stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind me.
“After you,” he gestures toward the elevators before placing his hand on the small of my back as we walk down the hallway. “I’m sorry about this. Apparently, Jax isn’t affected by my threatening tone anymore.”
“Was that what that was? Hmm,” I hum in indifference.
“It was,” he clarifies, clearly annoyed with Jax.
“Then I can see why we’re headed to meet them for drinks. So, cat’s outta the bag? Who all knows?”
“Just Jax, Carse, and Griff,” he tells me as we step into the elevator and he presses the button for the rooftop where the hotel’s restaurant and bar are located.
“Well that’s not so bad,” I tell him as I lean against the wall of the elevator farthest from him.
“Were you anticipating that we’d be walking into an engagement party with the entire team?” Bennett asks as he leans back against the opposite wall of the elevator and crosses one foot over the other with his hands in his pockets again.
God, my fiancé is stupid hot. Suddenly I remember the first time the two of us were alone in an elevator.
Bennett balances me against the wall as he hikes up the silk skirt of my dress before slamming his hips against mine once more. The feel of his erection through his suit pants rubs perfectly against my exposed clit.
“Stop,” Bennett commands roughly.
“Stop what?” I ask, blinking out of the memory.
“Stop thinking about that night, or I’ll be forced to stop this elevator and bring it all to the forefront of your memory. Rules be damned.It’s written all over your face, and even if it weren’t, you’re practically panting over there,” he says in a gravelly tone, gesturing to my chest. “Tell me, Scar,” he starts as he stalks across the elevator toward me, “if I were to drift my fingers up between those perfect legs, would I find your pussy wet and needy for me?”
“Bennett,” I start as a whisper but end as a gasp when he reaches me and pauses with his hand on my thigh at the hem of the slit of my dress. My pussy throbs in anticipation of where this could go. “If you drift your fingers any higher, you’ll be met with my soaking, bare pussy.”
“Fuuuuck, Scar,” he groans and rests his forehead against mine. “Let me guess, you didn’t want panty lines again?”
“You’re picking up on things quickly,” I whisper to him, waiting with bated breath to see where this will go.
Disappointment floods me when Bennett drops his hand from my thigh as the elevator chimes and the doors open to the bar’s entrance. My feet remain rooted in place as I try to calm my racing heart. Bennett steps back and walks out of the elevator but turns around and holds the door with his arm when he notices I haven’t moved yet.
“Is that a hint of disappointment I see on your face, Little Red? Hmm.” He pauses as if pondering something. “How about this, if you’re a good little fiancée, perhaps we can pick up where we left off when I escort you back to your room. But only if you beg me to break the rules.”
My pussy clenches at the promise in his tone and begs me to be on my best behavior, but my strong will won’t let him get away with that bullshit.
“Thank you,dear, for reminding me what an arrogant man I’m engaged to,” I purr as I brush past him. I’m about to dazzle the hell out of his friends so he can eat his words later. I don’t plan on begging, he’ll willingly drop to his knees.
Bennett
Scarlett Carlisle is the most frustratingly stubborn woman. If she didn’t drive me so crazy with want, it’d almost be endearing.
She’s currently making me pay for my comment in the elevator. I haven’t quite figured out if it’s because I teased us both and pulled away, if it’s because I crossed the line of our no-touch rule, or if it’s because I told her she had to earn picking up where we left off. Honestly, probably all of the above.
