Free Crazy Nights (The Barrington Billionaires Book 3) by Danielle Stewart Page B

her but so no one else would kiss her. So that he’d maybe get a chance to do it again the next day and the day after that. He wanted her. He’d have her. He’d have to have her. Fuck the consequences and his shortcomings and the guilt. This was unbearable and it had to end.
    “I think we should skip the concert,” Emmitt said. “I won’t be able to get through it.”
    “Why? Can you not appreciate some beautiful music in an amazing upscale atmosphere?” She scrutinized his face but he could tell she already knew his answer.
    “I can’t handle that dress,” he admitted, taking her delicate hand in his and sliding it up his thigh until she could feel his excitement. “Can you handle this?” he asked, his hand sliding across the silky material and finding her pointed nipples, begging to be touched. He gave one a firm pinch and timed it with a bite on her ear lobe.
    “We should still go,” she gasped out, but her body continued to disagree with her words. She arched her back pushing herself closer to his touch.
    “We’re closer to the hotel than the theater. We could be back there in less than five minutes. We could be in my room in less than eight minutes. I could be inside you in less than ten minutes.” He never moved his mouth from her ear as he spoke.
    “And you could be telling me to leave in less than thirty minutes,” she sighed, as reality began to flow back in. “This doesn’t really mean anything to you. I know that.”
    “It would be a hell of a lot longer than thirty minutes. I don’t know who you’ve been fucking, but I’m no two-pump chump from the farm you grew up on.” He let his fingers continue to roam over her body and entice every inch of her. “You’d be mine for hours.”
    “Hours?” she asked with a devilish grin that quickly slid off her face. “How lucky of me to get you for hours before you cast me aside.” She pulled away slightly and her back went rigid in a completely different way.
    “You need answers I can’t give. But I can make it fun.” He moved his hand up her leg, still amazed by the feel of the dress under his fingers.
    “The symphony will be fun,” she said, crossing her legs tightly as though she were slamming a door. A very sexy, appetizing door that he desperately wanted to enter.
    “You’re tough,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t seem to figure you out. You’re mad I walk away from you when you so clearly wanted to be fucked. Now I’m here ready to fuck you, and you’re insisting we go to the symphony.”
    “And you told me to get the hell out of the state, then you show up in a tux and take me in a limo. So kettle, I’m the pot and you’re black.”
    “Fair enough,” he groaned, leaning back in his seat, knowing the moment had passed. “But you will be glad later you came with me and not whatever sap Sophie Barrington planned to have escort you. You’ll forget his name when you’re screaming mine.”
    “What makes you so sure I’ll sleep with you tonight?” Her arms folded across her chest, closing yet another door on him.
    “Don’t you want to? Haven’t you been thinking about it since I left your room the other night?” He ran a finger under the skinny strap of her dress and tugged it off her shoulder.
    “Quite a bit actually,” she admitted. “But I’ve also been thinking about who you are. Tonight when you showed up at my hotel room door you changed from just a guy who might have me screaming his name into a man. Something more whole, more complete than the two-dimensional object you’ve been pretending to be. Now I’m considering what that means. What I want it to mean.”
    A knot in his stomach pulled tight. This was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. “It means nothing,” he said curtly. “It means you are seeing what you want to see rather than what is. You’re giving me far more credit than I deserve. I fuck up. I trash people’s lives. I leave carnage in my wake. My choices are garbage. I