A Private Affair. A.C. Arthur
do it, anyway.”
He kissed her again, his hands moving down her sides. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly against her. Chaz groaned at the spurt of possession and need. He grabbed the hem of her dress, pushing it up her legs so he could feel more of her skin, get even closer to her. Riley dragged one leg up, wrapping it around his waist until he was delightfully trapped in her grasp.
He couldn’t believe he was here, with Riley Gold, touching her and kissing her. His erection pulsed and pressed eagerly against his zipper. He wanted to be inside her now, but he couldn’t pull himself away from her to get them to the elevators and eventually to her room. He needed something first. He needed to give her something, just this little bit to relax her and to promise himself what was to come.
Chaz moved his hand until he felt the silky skin of her inner thigh. She bucked instantly and tilted her head back to arch into him. He cursed, his mouth sliding over her bared shoulder.
Heat greeted his fingers before he even slipped the thin piece of silk covering her mound to the side. She’d eased her hands inside his jacket and now her nails dug into his chest. He slid two fingers inside her and she gasped. She jerked at the contact, groaning as he pressed deeper and shifted her hips until she could move in rhythm with his thrusts. He gritted his teeth at the delicious feel of her moist heat and the tightness that circled him. Closing his eyes, he clenched his teeth at how good this felt even though it wasn’t his hard dick easing in and out of her.
She gripped his shirt in her fists as her body tensed. The sound of his fingers moving in and out of her echoed in his ears and had his dick jumping. She gasped and stilled, her heated walls gripping him tighter before her release came, her body trembled and she moaned in his arms.
Seconds later, fireworks popped off, and the sound of people cheering and singing filtered out from the ballroom onto the balcony.
It had taken them exactly sixteen minutes to weave through the celebrating crowd in the ballroom and head toward the elevators. When they finally arrived at the door to her suite, Riley unlocked it and led Chaz inside. She dropped her purse and the key card on the sofa table and kept moving through the lavishly decorated space. Chaz stopped at the fully stocked bar tucked in a corner of the living room and asked Riley if she wanted champagne. She opted for wine and Chaz selected water. Now they were sitting on the terrace, finishing their drinks and watching the last of the fireworks show.
It didn’t take a genius to see that her nerves were more than a little frayed. Probably a combination of the crowd they’d encountered in the hallway and the fact that he was actually in her room. So they would slow down a bit until she was certain of herself and what she wanted from him once more.
“Why are you here alone?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.
Chaz sat back on the lounge chair, his legs spread in front of him.
“I always travel alone.”
“Yet you always find someone to spend your time with,” she countered.
Chaz looked over to her.
“What?” she asked as he continued to stare. “You’re in the papers a lot. With this woman and that woman. Between you, Maurice and Major, I don’t know who the true Fashion House Playboy is.”
Considering she’d lumped him into a category with two of her brothers, Chaz figured the comment wasn’t a total insult.
“For a person burned by the lies in tabloids, you should know better than to believe anything they print,” he replied, anyway, but then wondered if he’d gone too far. The last thing he wanted was to irritate her.
“You’re right,” she countered, quicker than he expected.
“But if you want to know if I have a girlfriend, the answer is no.”
Her fingers moved on her thigh, but she didn’t speak. They’d slowed down, Chaz thought. From the time they’d first come up here, until now, her fingers had gone from clenching together, to rubbing along the stem of the wineglass, to resting on her thigh. Chaz had never seen Riley nervous. He doubted she felt that way often and he almost smiled with the realization that she must be relaxing with him.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Chaz was almost positive she was single, but he didn’t want her to think he was presumptuous.
“No,” she replied. “I’m not in the market for a boyfriend, fiancé or husband. I’m fine being single.”
Because the other way hadn’t worked for her. Chaz knew and had no desire to rehash any of that for her.
“So am I,” he said.
“Why? Your uncle definitely believes in the institution of marriage. I’m surprised he’s not pressuring you to settle down.”
“That’s precisely why I’m still single,” Chaz admitted. “Uncle Tobias was on his fourth wife when he took me in after my parents’ deaths. Twenty-four years later and he’s on wife number eight. He averages around three to four years with each one, before he decides to trade for a newer model.”
“Wow, that’s a little harsh. You don’t think he’s really falling in love with them?”
“Only if he can fall out of love with them just as often. It seems like a vicious cycle to me.”
“A cycle indeed,” she added. “My parents may be the exception to the rule. They’ve been married for thirty-eight years this coming June. I think theirs is a real, true love.”
“But you’re not looking for that yourself?”
She shook her head. “Absolutely not. My focus right now is on RGF. That’s all.”
“Yes, it’s about to get busy on the work front for both of us. But you should always have a balance between work and play,” he said and then stood. “Do you want another glass of wine?”
Another drink, more small talk, whatever it took to make Riley feel comfortable with the deal they’d made. He could still smell her sweet and intoxicating scent on his fingers and his erection hadn’t abated, but there was no rush. They had all night.
Then what?
Then nothing. They’d get up in the morning and go home. Done.
When she nodded, Chaz took their glasses inside. He poured them both some wine and returned to the terrace. Riley was standing now, too, leaning a hip against the railing as she watched him walk toward her. Chaz handed her the glass.
“Do you have a New Year’s resolution?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Never make them. My professional goals are the same each year.”
Chaz watched as one of her elegantly arched brows lifted.
“What about your personal goals? Balance of work and play, remember?”
She smiled and Chaz felt the air leave his lungs. Straight white teeth and plump lips. The memory of their scorching kisses would forever be emblazoned on his mind. But it wasn’t her mouth that had physically assaulted Chaz in that moment, it was the light he saw flash in her eyes. The little bit of laughter that had joined her smile.
“I want to take more time to paint,” he admitted. Something he’d never told anyone else.
“You’re an artist?”
“Something like that,” he said before downing the contents of his glass. He was suddenly very thirsty.
And very ready to take her. Chaz looked at the empty glass momentarily and then walked over to a table and set it down.
When he returned to stand in front of Riley, he asked, “What’s your New Year’s resolution?”
She