Holding My Breath. AM Hartnett

       Chapter Three

      ‘Would you please call up to room 720 and let them know their guest is waiting for them in the lounge?’ he asked.

      Molly minimised the window on her computer screen and picked up the phone to her right. She didn’t dial out. She just cradled the receiver against her ear and watched the front desk from the corner of her eye.

      ‘Yes, sir – oh, one moment. I have a key card for you. You can go right up.’

      The people-shapes beyond her office stood still, and try as she might she couldn’t bear not to look. She bit down on her smile and swivelled just a little in her seat.

       What a look that is. You’ve gone and thrown him off his groove, haven’t you, Moll?

      He looked slightly annoyed at the clerk as he took the card, but gave a cordial nod and thanked her. As he turned, his gaze connected with Molly’s, and she couldn’t help flashing him a smile before she turned back to her computer.

      Ten minutes later, she locked her office door behind her and wished the clerk good night. She stopped into the ladies’ room to freshen her lipstick and do a quick wardrobe change, and then headed for the elevator. Once she stepped off the car, she glanced down the corridor to the double doors that opened onto the indoor walkway leading to the parking garage. Instead of her usual route, Molly turned in the other direction.

      She had picked the third floor so she could make an easy escape. If security noticed she had left her car overnight, they would just assume that it was one of her rare evenings out with friends and that she was taking a taxi home. She’d already collected her overnight bag from the trunk and left it in the room, and now she was ready to lock herself in with him for the night.

      Using her master key card, she once more let herself into the honeymoon suite. It was easy to block off the same room at this time of year. Outside the warm weather months, the room was typically only let out for anniversaries. When no one had claimed it by suppertime, she’d simply discounted it and sold the room to a Miss Plum, who paid cash and whom Molly checked in herself.

      Shrugging out of her coat in the narrow corridor flanked by the closet and the bathroom, ‘Miss Plum’ cocked her head but couldn’t see him, just his coat draped over the edge of the sofa and his scarf tossed on top of it. There was no noise other than the whisper of her own clothes, and she wondered if he had stepped out for a moment.

      Not quite, she discovered as she stepped into the room. The light in the bedroom was on behind him. He sat on the end of the bed, bent forward with his forearms across his thighs. His suit jacket and tie were slung on the accent chair in the far corner. He had unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves, and it was clear to Molly that he had discarded the character in which he’d entered the hotel. This man was someone altogether different, someone who wanted his rough edges to be seen as soon as she walked in.

      One crook of his finger beckoning her, and he might as well have been twitching the tip against her clit. She walked towards him – it seemed to take ages – and stopped on the threshold of the bedroom.

      Quinn moved an arm to prop his chin on his hand. He raised his brows, and wiggled his finger again.

      Losing the fight with that urge to smile, she moved forward with a grin. She had taken two steps when he raised his hand and made a twirling motion.

      As soon as her back was to him he grabbed the bottom of her skirt and drew it up to her ass on one side. She thought she caught the tremble of laughter in the air as he regarded what was underneath, but when she glanced down on him he looked as serious as ever.

      After just a moment he tugged the skirt back down, then gave her a little nudge.

      ‘Back in the doorway and strip.’

      ‘Hello to you, too.’

      This time the laughter was unmistakable, and the smile remained once she turned in the doorway. She unbuttoned her jacket and split it open, then planted her hands on her hips.

      ‘I do hope you’re going to reciprocate,’ she said.

      When he didn’t break his silence, Molly let out an impatient little sigh that burned in her throat but fizzled giddily on her tongue. She knew he’d been reading her again, that he had probably started the second she came into view as he approached the front desk, only this time he was doing so in silence.

      So far.

      She peeled off the jacket and tossed it to the floor, then plucked the buttons of her blouse. He’d already had a preview, and anticipation showed on his face as she opened the shirt. He didn’t move, not when the shirt joined the jacket on the floor, and not when she turned and unzipped her skirt.

      Nearly naked now, she turned back and resumed her pose with her hands on her hips.

      He lowered his gaze to her legs. ‘You weren’t wearing those when I came into the hotel tonight.’

      ‘The nudes are stuffed in my purse. I thought the white stockings were a much better match.’

      ‘I agree,’ he said, then got to his feet.

      She kept her pose in spite of the quiver running up her spine as he circled her. She could feel the appreciation beaming out of him, and lost any worry she’d had about going too over the top with the saucy little number.

      ‘Is this new?’

      ‘The stockings are. The rest has been … away. I thought today would be a good time to bring it out of hibernation.’

      The truth was that she had almost burned the scanty merry widow when she’d come across it a few months ago. She’d been a little drunk and feeling sorry for herself, and at the time a ritualistic barbecue in the backyard had seemed like a tremendous idea. Either she’d changed her mind or passed out before she could follow through, because in the morning she found it rumpled on the floor. She’d put it back in the dresser where she had found it, and it had been forgotten until that morning.

      ‘You should wear something like this all the time,’ he said, and gave the garter a little tug. ‘I can’t tell in the orange light: is it silver?’

      ‘Lavender.’

      ‘Like something a virgin would wear on her wedding night. Not a good girl, mind you; not the type who is all hands-off until she has a ring on her finger, but the type who has been pretty free with the blowjobs and a bit of fingering but enjoys the chase too much to give it all up until she knows it’s worth it.’

      ‘If you think I’m a virgin, Quinn, I think you need your head examined.’

      ‘But you want to give the same impression. You wore this so you could be a total prick-tease to me.’

      He came around, right in front of her, and tilted her chin up to look at him. She managed to maintain her gaze for about thirty tense seconds before lowering her lashes.

      ‘Don’t worry, Molly. You’ll have your chance to tease my cock all you want once I’m done with you.’ He slipped both his large, warm hands round her face and leaned close. ‘I can be a tease, too, can’t I?’

      He left her light-headed with wanting to be kissed, and returned to the bed.

      ‘You remind me of someone, you know. About ten years ago there was a woman in Vancouver