At the hotel

The SUV's leather seats creaked under them as Kevin slid in beside Emily, putting as much distance between them as the spacious interior allowed. He angled his body toward the window, his damp slacks sticking uncomfortably to his thighs—a constant, maddening reminder of Emily's fingers working him beneath the thin fabric. The partition was up, the driver's murmured directions barely audible through the glass. A bead of sweat rolled down Kevin's temple despite the AC blasting at full strength.

Emily crossed her legs slowly, letting her heel brush against his calf. "You're quiet," she murmured, plucking at the hem of her skirt where it had ridden up. The fabric whispered against her thighs, drawing Kevin's gaze like a magnet before he wrenched it away.

"Just reviewing the pitch," he lied, thumbing through his phone with jerky movements. The screen blurred—he hadn't processed a single word since the plane. His cock throbbed in his briefs, still half-hard from her teasing.

Emily hummed, leaning closer to peer at his phone. Her perfume—something citrusy with an undercurrent of vanilla—wrapped around him. "Mm. Page six seems particularly riveting," she teased, tapping the screen where he'd been staring at the same slide for three minutes. Her fingernail grazed his thumb, sending a jolt up his arm.

Kevin snapped the phone shut. "Emily." His voice came out rougher than intended, frayed at the edges.

he SUV rolled to a stop beneath the hotel's gleaming portico. Emily smiled—slow, knowing—as the valet opened her door. "After you," she murmured, sweeping her skirt aside with deliberate care as she slid out. Kevin caught a flash of toned thigh before the fabric settled back into place. His jaw clenched.

The lobby was all marble and hushed voices, their footsteps swallowed by plush carpet. Kevin gripped his suitcase handle like an anchor. "Two rooms," he told the front desk clerk, sliding his corporate card across the counter with more **** than necessary. "Adjacent."

Emily leaned against the counter, her hip brushing his. "How very conscientious of you," she said, accepting her keycard with a fingertip graze that made the clerk blush. Kevin watched the interaction with narrowed eyes, his pulse jumping when Emily deliberately dropped her card. She bent at the waist to retrieve it, giving him a view of the lace trim peeking above her skirt waistband.

The elevator doors slid shut behind them with a hushed sigh. Kevin stared resolutely at the floor numbers climbing, but his reflection in the polished metal betrayed him—eyes dark, tracking Emily's every shift in position. She adjusted her hair, arms lifting to twist the auburn strands into a loose knot. The movement pulled her blouse taut across her chest, and Kevin's knuckles went white around his suitcase handle.

"Hot in here, isn't it?" Emily mused, fanning herself with her keycard. A bead of sweat traced the hollow of her throat. Kevin's tongue darted out to wet his lips before he caught himself. The elevator dinged at their floor.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the plush, silent hallway of the fourteenth floor. Kevin stepped out first, his damp slacks clinging to his thighs with every stiff stride. Emily followed, the click of her heels muffled by the thick carpet. She watched the way his shoulders tensed beneath his rumpled dress shirt, the fabric pulling taut across his back as he fumbled with his keycard.

Emily caught up to him just as his door unlocked. "Need help with that?" she murmured, leaning in close enough that her breath stirred the hair at his nape. Kevin froze, his fingers tightening around the card. She could see the pulse jumping in his throat, the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"Emily," he warned, voice low and rough. He didn't turn around—couldn't, not with her standing so close that the heat from her body seeped through his shirt.

She reached past him, her arm brushing his as she pressed her palm flat against his door. "What if I said I left something in your bag?" Her lips curved into a smile when she felt him tense further. "Would you let me in to get it?"

Kevin exhaled sharply through his nose, his free hand flexing at his side. "You're playing a dangerous game," he muttered, finally turning to face her. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide despite the hallway's bright lighting.

Emily tilted her head, letting her hair slip over one shoulder. "Maybe I like danger." She stepped closer, the pointed toe of her pump nudging against his dress shoe. "Or maybe I just like seeing you squirm."

Kevin's jaw worked as he stared down at her, his breath coming faster than it had any right to. The rational part of his brain screamed at him to step away, to put distance between them before this went any further. But the way Emily's tongue darted out to wet her lips—slow, deliberate—short-circuited every thought in his head.

"You're killing me," he ground out, his fingers twitching at his sides like they itched to reach for her.

Emily smiled—small, knowing—and leaned in until her lips brushed the shell of his ear. "Then stop me," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Kevin shuddered, his resolve crumbling. His hands came up to grip her hips—whether to push her away or pull her closer, even he wasn't sure—but Emily slipped out of his grasp before he could decide, stepping back with a smirk that sent heat pooling low in his stomach.