Work Text:
Wow…
Colin Bridgerton brushed the snow off of his shoulders as he strode into the bar of the Whitby Hotel. New York City was one of his favorite places to visit, but he had never been lucky to be there during the holidays until now. His management team had been chomping at the bit for more content before the year ended and, while he would be spending the actual holidays at home with his family, he couldn’t think of a better time to visit the city and provide his team with something different than his usual tropical getaways to escape the frigid temps of winter, or even the same, predictable skiing holiday like he had written about the year before.
He had heard a great many things about the Whitby, especially their Christmas-themed tea service. With it being located in Midtown Manhattan, it sat two blocks from Central Park and the Museum of Modern Art. Not to mention that a five minute walk would take a person straight to Rockefeller Center.
He wasn’t there to specifically review the hotel, but seeing as though it was very much in the thick of most things holiday-themed, he found that it would be a perfect addition to his article.
His older brother, Benedict, was a purveyor of anything art and had stayed there previously and had sung his praises to Colin. There was simply no way he could turn down a recommendation like that.
Yet, any sort of research could wait for another day. He was in town for an entire week and his flight had been quite long and tiresome. Not only that, but barely after he’d checked into his suite, he’d had plans to reconnect with an old schoolmate of his who had moved to the city some years before. So, after the long day he’d had, he was looking to relax for at least thirty minutes at the bar before heading up to get some much needed rest.
The first thing he noted when he entered the bar was the festive decorations. The place was fully decked out for Christmas. Lights were strung up all over, as was green garland with glass baubles and velvet ribbons. The overhead lights had been dimmed slightly to allow the soft aesthetic of the decor to fully take effect. A lush, real Christmas tree rested in the corner, it decorations not only looking handmade, but also ancient like they were hundreds of years old. He would have to remember to investigate them further on another day.
Because all he wanted to do was sit back with a glass of whiskey and fully decompress from his day.
As he brushed the snow from his hair, he strode passed a petite redhead at the end of the bar and chose the seat two down from her. He spared her a quick glance. She was alone, reading an actual book (not just staring down at her phone) and sipping from a nearly empty glass of white win. She barely glanced his way as he shook himself out of his coat and slung it over his chosen spot at the bar. Pity, as she was very much his type.
Yet, for all he knew, she was probably waiting for someone, or she simply wanted to be alone and he preferred not to crowd her if that was the case.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked as Colin settled into his stool.
“Macallan. Neat,” he instructed as he worked free the buttons of his suit jacket and placed his phone on top of the bar. He glanced down at his notifications, most of them texts from his family as they acknowledged that he had arrived safely in the city. The rest were from his team and could be answered in the morning.
As his drink was being delivered to him, a hand landed on his shoulder. He froze at the boldness of the touch as it lingered dar too long for his liking. From the corner of his eye, he could make out the long, red talons on the hand belonging to the woman who had daringly stepped up to him.
He had learned through his time as a travel writer that people in the States were quite friendly. Sometimes uncomfortably so. And this woman was quickly bursting through the barriers of what he found uncomfortable.
“Ooh, I love a man who knows his whiskey,” she purred into his ear. Her voice was, admittedly, like soft velvet, yet it had little effect on Colin. Without being prompted, she squeezed herself between him and the redhead, which allowed Colin to take her in.
Tall and thin, she was one of those woman who had always been told that she was beautiful and was desperate to cling to that sentiment. However, her forehead was far too smooth, her lips had that fake plush quality, and her cheeks had an overly-pillowy look to them. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, but if he had to wager a guess, she was a woman who was pushing forty and was desperately trying to cling to her youth and was failing spectacularly.
She wore a skin-tight red dress that was far too short to be decent. He was given clear glimpses of the tops of her garters (women still wore those in public?) the higher her skirt went up. If she shimmied just the right (wrong?) way, he was certain everyone in the room would be seeing her knickers. That is, if she was wearing any. Either way, Colin would not be interested because this woman was very much not his type.
“Name’s Roxy,” she smiled at him, revealing teeth that looked far too straight and white. Veneers, he could only conclude.
Colin simply wanted to ignore her and enjoy his drink while she tried to play seductress and even leaned in to tease him with a pair of breasts that were damn near about to pop out of the top of her dress. He was familiar with her type. She was a woman on the prowl for a man who could bankroll her unattainable lifestyle and thoughts she’d found herself a sugar daddy for the evening.
Colin, however, was not the sugar daddy type.
Still, he had been raised with manners and he couldn’t exactly dismiss her as coldly as he desired. He knew if he did then his mother would somehow hear about it. He didn’t know how she would, but she would. It was one of Violet Bridgerton’s superpowers. Then, when she did hear about it, he would have to be subjected to hearing her read him the Riot Act before he could even get in a single word of explanation.
“Colin,” he managed a small smile of his own as he raised his glass to his lips. He wouldn’t supply his last name, because this interaction wasn’t about to lead to anything more. And the less she knew about him the better. So, if he was lucky, it would be a short conversation between them and he could finish his drink in peace.
However, the way her eyes suddenly lit up when she’d heard him speak told him she would try to make this last for as long as possible.
“Well, you’re certainly not from around these parts, are ya?”
He shook his head and quickly took another drink to fortify himself. “Nope. I’m from London.”
“Long way from home, then?” He could see her fingers inching toward his glass. He pretended not to notice and cradled it between his hands before she could make contact with it.
“Quite.”
“Traveling alone?” Seeing that his drink was now out of her reach, she changed tactics and leaned forward to play with the end of his cranberry tie, batting her eyelashes coquettishly at him. Colin’s muscles were as stiff as the limbs on one of those fainting goats his brother Gregory had shown him once. He tried to move as little as possible so that she would not perceive any of his actions as him accepting of her attention. “Perhaps you are in the market for some fun?”
It didn’t take a genius to decipher the sort of fun she was interested in. Colin almost hated to shut her down with his simple response. Almost.
“I’m not so certain that my wife would approve of the sort of fun you have in mind.” He switched his whiskey to his left hand, his wedding ring glinting in the light as he raised it to his lips.
For a brief second, ‘Roxy’—though Colin was positive that wasn’t her real name—looked a bit put out by the revelation that he was married. But, the pinched expression on her face quickly melted back into a smirk that he was sure would have had an effect on some men. “That’s okay. Whatever she doesn’t know and all that.”
Colin was not one of those men her wiles would work on, though. Even when she placed her palm upon his upper thigh and slowly began to run it closer to his inseam with no response from him, she didn’t take the hint.
It was only when Colin stilled her hand with his own and pushed it away from him as gently—though with enough firm finality—as he could manage. “Listen, you’re not really my type. And while I probably could afford what you’re looking for, I’m not exactly in the market for paying for it. So, why don’t you find someone else to be your sucker.”
She gasped, affronted by his accusation. “Asshole!” she cursed at him and looked like she was about to slap him.
The bartender caused her to freeze, however. “Hey!” Leaning upon the bar, he fixed her with an icy gaze. “What did I tell you about bothering my customers?” Glancing behind Colin, he waved to someone to draw them over. A few seconds later, a rather large member of the hotel’s security was standing there beside her.
Rolling her eyes, Roxy got up from her stool, tugging down the hem of her skirt and fixing all three men with a sneer in turn. “Ugh, whatever!” She tossed her long, wavy brown hair over her shoulder, trying to act completely unfazed by Colin’s rejection. She fixed him with a withering glare before rolling her eyes at him. “Whatever, prick. Probably a terrible lay anyway.”
She turned and stalked away, her departure shadowed by the large security guard following behind her.
“Too bad you’ll never find out,” Colin muttered into his glass as he drained the last of his whiskey and watched her disappear.
When he turned back around, another Macallan was already waiting for him. “Sorry about that,” the bartender told him as he grabbed Colin’s empty glass and wiped at the counter top. “I was hoping she would behave after the last time.” The last time? Colin asked himself. Just how many times had this woman pulled something like this? “I’ll comp your entire bill for the evening.”
Colin waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. It honestly happens more often than you’d think.”
That earned him a chuckle from the redhead. She couldn’t even spare him the humiliation of at least looking down at her book. No, instead, she had her elbow resting on top of the bar, her head cradled in her palm as she blatantly stared at him, her eyes alight with mirth as she tried to keep her laughter at bay.
Sighing, he took hold of his fresh glass and took a sip. “I hope I have been adequate entertainment for you this evening,” he sarcastically quipped.
“Sorry,” she apologized as she covered her mouth with her hand to hide the fact that she was laughing at him. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
Colin was momentarily struck dumb by how blue her eyes were. They reminded him of two very deep, clear pools of water that he’d once had the opportunity to sit by while visiting the Greek Isles. And the way the Christmas lights hanging above the bar reflected in them made them almost seem as if there were stars shining in her eyes.
He felt like he could get lost in a pair of eyes like that.
“And yet, here you are, laughing at me.” He wanted to be insulted by the fact that she was finding humor in his pain, yet all he could feel was captivated.
She waved a hand at him, informing him it wasn’t as serious as he was making it out to be. “Only because you’re the fifth one she’d tried that on tonight.” Her voice was quite soft, practically melodious in its tone. It was quite the pleasing sound and Colin only wanted to hear more of it.
He shifted in his seat, angling himself more toward her; making sure to reveal his interest, yet still maintaining a respectable distance. “Fifth?” he asked while blowing out a breath. “I don’t know whether I should feel flattered or insulted then.”
She hummed softly as she finished off her glass of wine, taking a moment to weigh her options. Colin’s gaze was drawn to the way her plush lips had curved around the rim of the glass as she took in the last of her drink. Then, his eyes traveled lower to watch the way her throat worked when she swallowed. He found himself choking on his next drink as he imagined something else she could wrap her lips around and swallow, then cursing at himself for how inappropriate that thought had been.
“Mmm… probably the latter if I were you. She was definitely using you for your money.”
“How are you so certain that I have money?”
Her eyes didn’t hesitate to rake over him from head to toe. He could almost feel them gently caressing over him as she made her silent assessment of him. “Well, apart from the fact that your coat alone looks like it would be worth more than my first car, there’s also the fact that the suit you’re wearing looks like it was poured from a mold onto your body.” He noted how her eyes seemed to linger on his chest for a beat before moving back up to his face. “You’re also wearing quite a nice watch and your haircut was not likely done at the corner barber.”
She briefly turned away from him to signal to the bartender to pour her another glass. When she turned her gaze back to him, Colin felt himself handing on her every word. “However, all of those things could be found second-hand or you could have also stolen them, I suppose. Your drink is what tells me you’ve got more than a little fun money.”
He glanced down at the amber liquid in his glass and frowned in bemusement. “I believe I need a bit more clarification than that.” He certainly wasn’t going to think about how she had been admiring his body. At least, anymore than he already had.
“This is a pretty bougie hotel and Macallan runs at least sixty quid here.” She pointed to his glass with a single finger. “That is your second glass. People who don’t have money don’t usually drip an easy hundred without flinching.”
He shrugged before shooting her one of the most devastating smiles in his repertoire. “Perhaps they would if they were trying to impress a beautiful woman.”
She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb, her sweet red brows drawn together in confusion. “If that is what you were trying to impress, I suggest you raise your standards,” she chuckled.
He snorted a laugh as he glanced behind him, making certain that Roxy wasn’t somehow still lingering in the wings, hoping to dig her claws into him or some other poor sap that might actually be willing to take her up on her offer. “Yeah, no. There’s no impressing a lounge lizard like that.”
“A what?” she laughed. God, that was a beautiful sound.
“A lounge lizard. You know: women who go to bars looking to hook up with men because they want them to pay for things.” Honestly, it was quite a few steps down from a sugar baby and even then, Roxy had been at the very bottom of that totem pole. And at least sugar babies seemed to have a few more scruples. “You’ve never heard that before?”
Her eyes continued to sparkle the more she laughed. Colin suddenly had the desire to make her laugh as much as possible, because the sound of her laughter was like the sweetest music to his ears. “No! I can honestly say I have never heard that term before in my life.”
“Glad I could teach you something new,” he joined in and laughed along with her.
“I’m sure you could teach me plenty.” She had mumbled her response under her breath, but there wasn’t so much distance between them that Colin wouldn’t be able to hear it.
He was in the middle of taking a drink when he sputtered in response to her words. He almost spit out his whiskey until he was forced to swallow it. It burned the entire way down his throat, making him cough and gasp for air. “Yes, well…” he croaked as he still struggled to pull in enough air. “Like I said before,” he paused to clear his throat, “I’m married.” He flashed his ring at her as he wiped off the bits of whiskey that had dribbled out of the corner of his mouth at her boldness.
What was it about this city that turned the women into horny little devils when he was around?
She scoffed as she uncrossed her left leg and shifted to cross her right. The movement draw the hem of her skirt up until she was flashing the slightest bit of her mid thigh. Completely uncovered, they were creamy and smooth looking with just the right amount to tease him. Colin felt drool pooling at the corner of his mouth. “If you think that little bauble is going to scare any of these women away, you are barking up the wrong tree.”
He frowned in confusion as his eyes were drawn to the white gold band on his finger. “Why do you say that?”
She leaned back in her chair, looking far too sure of herself. “Because, if there is one thing I am certain of, it is that seeing a wedding ring on a man is one of the sexiest things to a woman.”
He snorted in response, finding the whole thing a bit ridiculous. “If you say so.”
Shutting her book, she shifted over to the chair beside him, leaning forward just a bit as if she was about to share one of her most precious secrets with him. Colin tried his damnedest to be a gentleman and keep his eyes on hers. However, deep down inside, he was merely a man and he couldn’t help but look her over.
She was wearing a cobalt blue dress that fell to her knee with sleeves that stopped just at her mid forearm. Colin knew very little about women’s fashion, though the style of it reminded him of something that would have been worn in the 50s. Classic and elegant, to be sure. The neckline was quite modest for this day and age, where it wasn’t unfamiliar to see a deep v-neck that would end at a woman’s navel. It showcased her bust quite nicely, he noticed.
However, said bust was also clearly being held up by some man-made contraption that was surely doing God’s work as it was holding her large breasts up high enough to show off almost too much and yet, still not enough for his liking. Hers were breasts that a man would happily dive into and never come up for air. Colin, himself, would happily drown in a pair of breasts like them. And she seemed to know that too. Especially when she leaned forward to whisper something to him, bringing her deep cleavage into his line of sight.
She was a woman who was highly aware of her assets and what they could achieve for her without her even having to try. And Colin was falling for it hook, line, and sinker. His fingers itched to reach out and take them in hand.
But, he was trying so very hard to behave.
He noticed a slight blush on her cheeks from the alcohol of the wine. Or, perhaps, it had to do with something else, because the closer she moved, the more he could see her eyes shifting to a darker hue.
She reached out and placed her hand upon his. At first, the tough was light, a mere brush really, but soon it became bolder. Using only her thumb and index finger, she caressed his ring finger in a manner he had never experienced before. It was bold and damn near erotic as her thumb reached his wedding ring, the tip of it running along the smooth outsides of the band until a shiver coursed through his veins.
She was gazing up at him through her eyelashes as one thumb brushed against the textured middle of the band and it was like that touch reach him deep down inside, causing his cock to unconsciously twitch in response. Like that was what she had been touching instead. “I, for one, find it very sexy.”
He should pull away from her. They were suddenly far too close, but the more she touched him, the more drawn to her he was becoming. He had to fight the urge to reach out and touch one of her auburn curls that hung down near her shoulder. It was so tempting and he practically ached to feel how soft her hair was, along with the rest of her.
Her darkened eyes continued to gaze up at him through long, light lashes. They still shined, large and full of something he either couldn’t place or didn’t want to name.
Swallowing thickly, he noted the corner of her mouth as her lips curled up just slightly in a sly manner. She was playing with him like she was a cat with a mouse and, reluctantly, he was finding it difficult to not want to be her prey.
“Nice try,” he finally responded with an awkward chuckle. He was quite surprised to find that his voice sounded nearly normal to his own ears. He had expected her actions to have a much greater effect on him. “You almost had me.”
Sighing wistfully, she settled back in her chair and drew her wine and book closer. “Almost.”
“My name is Colin, by the way.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” she chuckled before taking another drink. “I overheard you talking to ‘Roxy’.” She rolled her eyes at the memory of the other woman, her laughter continuing.
“Ah, so you’re both terribly observant and extremely nosy. Good to know.”
“Yet, I would prefer to be called one over the other,” she admitted wryly with a wrinkle of her nose. “Though, I suppose I wouldn’t be good at my job if I wasn’t either of those things.”
“And what is it that you do?” He suddenly desired to know everything about her. Her job, her middle name, the name of her first pet, how she liked to be kissed… how she sounded when she fell apart underneath him…
“I’m a writer. Well, a novelist. Detail is my bread and butter, so if I don’t get it right, it doesn’t pay the bills.”
“Anything I’ve heard of?”
She shrugged, looking completely nonchalant despite the crackling energy that was discharging between the two of them. How could she continue to sit there all calm, cool, and collected while Colin felt as though he was sweating buckets? “Possibly. Have you head of the Lady Whistledown series?”
His interest peaked. He was aware of the series. Had even ended up devouring the entire thing on the behest of his sisters and mother. Sitting before him was Penelope Featherington, one of the UK’s bestselling authors in historical fiction. Which was a well-deserved title. In a world where books like 365 Days, 50 Shades, and the After Series existed, Penelope’s books were damn near considered Shakespearean.
“I have, indeed. My sister Daphne cannot stop raving about them and my sister, Hyacinth, I swear, is the captain of the Lady Whistledown fan club.” He chuckled.
“And have you read any of them yourself?” Her head was slightly tilted to the side, intrigue shining in her eyes.
“I may have perused a chapter or two.” Perused. Devoured. Written a few fan fictions of his own…
She seemed skeptical as she looked at him. Of course, someone could claim to have read a book and no one would really have to be the wiser. However, he felt like his knowledge was just about to be challenged. “Do you have a favorite character?”
Currently, there were six books in the series and while the overarching narrative was mainly about this one family in Regency Era London—the Broadridge family—each book was dedicated to the scandalous and often steamy love story of the eight siblings. Each love story had a book dedicated to it, however there were many other characters and plot lines that had been stretched out between each book.
Colin, having read each book at least twice, was well versed in the universe she had created. So, he was prepared to answer her question immediately.
“Honestly, I find Christopher, the third brother, more than a little bit relatable. I sweat, it was as if his life was modeled after mine. And I mean that in a modest way. Reading his story helped me truly see my life for what it was and it helped me also see what my goals in life were.”
Apparently, she had been anticipating a more vacuous response from him, because she was staring at him now, completely dumbfounded by his answer. She was quite enchanting when she was speechless.
“What about you?” he asked smoothly. “Who is your favorite character?”
Clearing her throat, she shook her head. “I don’t have a favorite.”
He scoffed at that. “Everyone has favorites.”
“No they don’t. And even if asked, it would be like I was forced to choose my favorite child. That would simply be cruel.”
Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward slightly as he studied her. “It’s Lady Whistledown, isn’t it?” There was far too much denial in her eyes for Colin to think otherwise.
“Yes, of course it is,” she automatically responded with a roll of her eyes.
“I knew it,” he chuckled, feeling quite triumphant.
She glared at him momentarily over the rim of her glass as she took another drink, yet there was no real heat behind it. If Colin didn’t know any better, she was enjoying this little back and forth they were having more that she was letting on.
“And what about you?” she tried to turn the focus of the conversation onto him now.
“No children, so I can’t have a favorite,” he joked.
She rolled her eyes at him. “No. I mean, what do you do? Besides looking like a GQ model and buying fancy liquor.” She then looked suddenly appalled at the thought that just occurred to her. “Or is that what you really do? Do you have fuck you money like that where all you do is dress really well and flit off to far away places to impress women in bars?”
“Not a model—though I will admit, I’m flattered that you think so—and I certainly don’t have fuck you money. My life is comfortable, though.”
She snorted in response. “Said like someone with fuck you money.”
“And, as to your previous assessment of me,” he continued as if she hadn’t said anything, “I’ll have you know that every man needs at least one good coat, so maybe I, perhaps, did splurge on that. Same goes for the suit. However, the watch belonged to my dad and I have, in fact, gone to the same barber since I was a lad.”
He paused for a beat.
“Also, I’m a writer as well.”
One perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifted as she continued to assess him, though she decided not to focus on the way he had just called her out for assuming things about him. She did turn to needle him about his profession, though. “And I suppose I should be impressed by that? I mean, some writers are pretty terrible. The only thing keeping them in business is there ego.”
“Here here.” He clinked his nearly empty glass with hers as he agreed with her every word on that point. “But, I’m a travel writer. I write mostly for magazines, but I also have a few books on my roster. Nothing as prolific as the Whistledown series, but it helps to keep me in nice suits and able to afford some nice whiskey now and again.” He winked playfully at her.
“Oh, so you’re the jet-setting playboy type then. The kind that boasts about all of the exotic locales he’s able to visit while posting shirtless thirst traps on his socials.” Her description of him was not exactly wrong as that had been the way he’d approached his career in his younger days. Nowadays, he liked to write more about the cultural aspects of a country. The traditions, the food, and all of the things that made people gather together.
The shirtless thirst traps just gave him better metrics.
“I swear, it is like you can see straight into my soul,” he told her flatly. “We’ve never met before, have we?”
“Quite possibly. I’ve known blokes like you my entire life, though so it’s kind of hard to remember. I mean, once you’ve met one, you’ve met them all, in a way.”
“Ouch.” And here he thought he was making some kind of impression on her. “You’ve got a sharp tongue on you, don’t you?”
“Might as well use it if you’ve got the skill, right?” she teased as she drained the last of her wine and set her empty glass back on the bar.
All Colin suddenly could think of was all of the way she could use that tongue of hers. Preferably someone on his body. Someplace that continued to twitch from simply going back and forth with her.
“Another?” he motioned to her empty glass with his nearly empty one as the bartender hovered nearby.
She shook her head, covering the top of her glass with her palm. “I shouldn’t. I have an early morning tomorrow.”
He nodded before knocking back the last of his drink and passing his room key toward the bartender. “Can you charge the drinks to my room, please? Both mine and the lady’s.”
“Sure thing,” the bartender nodded before heading off to run Colin’s room key through the register.
“Hmm… handsome, rich, and generous…”
“Impressed?” he questioned with an arched eyebrow.
She shrugged slightly as the bartender returned with a slip for Colin to sign. “Possibly gave you a few more points in my book.”
“I’ll take it.” Colin signed the slip—making sure to add a generous tip—and took back his room key with a friendly nod to the man behind the counter. “How many more points would it give me if I offered to escort you to the elevator?”
“One or two,” she offered as she grabbed her book and got to her feet.
He grabbed his coat and followed. “Is that all?” he chuckled as he kept pace beside her, his hand instinctively falling to the small of her back as they exited the bar and approached the elevators in the lobby.
“I’m not so easy to impress,” she smiled up at him as she pushed the button to call the lift, leacing them to stand there, waiting.
He was enjoying her cheeky little attitude. It had been a while since he’d had a conversation so stimulating. There was something about this woman that just brought him so much joy. Speaking with her—hell, even simply spending time with her—was enough to make his heart pulse frantically in his chest.
Feeling like a fool as he grinned at her, he leaned forward slightly until his lips were lingering merely centimeters from her ear. He took a brief moment to breathe her in. She smelled so fucking good it made his mouth water.
“I suppose I may have to put in some extra effort to truly wow you, then.”
He noted the way his breath ruffled her hair slightly, causing her to shiver in response. She had been so cool and calm with him at the bar that, briefly, he had been wondering if she had been feeling that same electric energy crackling between them. But when she shivered, a slight gasp had escaped her. And when her eyes had swiveled up to his, he noticed that her sparkling, clear blue eyes were practically black.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Challenge accepted. His soul practically zinged with excitement to know that he was affecting her just as much as she was him.
The elevator dinged and they climbed aboard. He pressed the button for the sixteenth floor, and waited, hoping that they would be the only two to jump on. But, that was not the case. Another couple came up just before the doors were about to close. Colin offered them both a warm nod, but said nothing as he stood as close to Penelope as could be considered proper in such a public setting.
He placed his hands upon the handrail behind him, his fingers extending just enough to reach out and gently touch her as the elevator lurched into motion. At first, she didn’t give any indication that she was even aware of his touch, but then she leaned back just enough for his touch to settle on her back more firmly. As they rode in silence for at least two floors, Colin began to draw little patterns into the fabric of her dress, teasing her.
She glanced up at him again, a smirk curling up the ends of her pert lips in response. There was no mistaking what he saw on her face. They both knew what was going to happen once they stepped off this elevator. Hell, Colin would be pleased as punch if it started well before that even.
“Lovely hotel,” the wife of the other couple—a woman in her mid-fifties with a kind smile—commented, interrupting the spark igniting between them.
“Quite,” Colin commented, trying to be just as friendly. What was it about Americans that made them want to strike up conversations with total strangers? If he’d done that anywhere in London, they would think him to be completely mental. However, he had grown accustomed to it over his time traveling and easily fell into a friendly conversation. “Have you stayed here before?”
“Yes. This is our favorite place to stay every time we visit the city. There simply isn’t a bad room in the entire hotel. What about the two of you?” Her eyes were practically sparkling as she eyes Colin and Penelope. She seemed to draw her own conclusions about the two of them and Colin decided to allow it.
“Been to the city before. Never stayed here, though. Heard great things about it from my brother.”
“It lives up to the hype,” the husband finally chimed in. “Also, can’t recommend the food enough.” He patted his belly happily. “It’s the best in the city.”
“We’ll remember that,” Penelope managed a kind smile as she soaked in the kindness of these two strangers as well. Colin wondered if she could even help it. Their joy was practically infectious.
The elevator chimed, signaling that it had reached the sixth floor. The doors swung open and they stepped outside. “Enjoy your stay!” the wife continued to grin at them until they both offered smiles and waves toward them.
“Odd place, America,” Penelope snorted as they elevator fell back into motion, continuing up and up and up…
Colin shrugged. “I kind of enjoy it.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You would.”
Colin shifted closer to her. Now that they were alone, there was nothing stopping him from what he had wanted to do since stepping foot in this damned metal box. “You know what else I would enjoy?” he asked as he reached out to her and placing his hands upon the generous swell of her hips.
“Hmm, I could wager a guess,” she teased, lightly biting into her lower lip as he slowly backed her up against he wall of the elevator. Her book slipped from her grasp when her back made contact with the wall.
“Yeah, what would you bet?” His head leaned forward, his lips hovering over the shell of her ear, but not yet making contact. It wouldn’t take much for him to take her earlobe between his teeth and bite down. Truly, all he would need to do was angle his head just so and he would be able to capture it. But, he was enjoying this slow torture he was inflicting upon her.
But, as good as he was giving, she was just as good at receiving. She angled her neck so that he would have easier access to her ear and the milky, smooth flesh of her neck. Colin’s fingers twitched upon her hips as he heard her breathing increase slightly in tempo as she all but arched herself on display for him.
Then, she did something that completely shocked him. Her palm met the back of his left hand, easing it away from her hip and leading him to trail his hand down her thigh and under her skirt. “I would bet…”
Gulping in a breath of air, Colin leaned back to watch as his hand disappeared underneath the soft, blue pleats and gasped at the feeling of her bare skin under his fingertips. Her skin was so damn soft, it was like he was touching the finest silk in the world. And it only became softer the higher she moved his hands toward her inner thigh.
Then she urged him to move even higher.
He audibly groaned at the feel of her. She was so lush and smooth that the mere feeling was sending him to a higher plane. And when she led him to a pair of lace knickers covering her weeping cunt, he swore he momentarily blacked out. She was so fucking wet that all it took for his fingers to come out absolutely soaked was a mere brush against the cotton gusset.
“… these,” she supplied, breathlessly.
Thoughts were no longer possible. Acting purely on instinct, Colin fell into her. His mouth crashed into her, capturing each one of her gasps as he began to draw slow, lazy circles over her. With each circle upon her damp folds, he felt more of her slick coat his hand.
She was clutching him with both hands now that he was touching her where she’d needed him to. Her fingers dug into his biceps as he slowly and thoroughly worked her over. Whimpers and sighs tried to escape her with each movement, but he swallowed them all up as his tongue brushed against her lips, begging entrance. She didn’t hesitate to let him in and very soon she was sucking on his eager tongue.
A moan rumbled from deep within his chest at the feeling of her plush, yearning lips wrapping themselves around his tongue. A pulse of lust shot down his spine, pivoting straight toward his core until his cock was rock hard in his trousers. He couldn’t resist revealing to her what she’d managed to do to him, so he rocked against her hip at the same moment his thumb brushed against her clit.
“Oh god…” she moaned, her mouth slipping from his as her head fell back in absolute ecstasy.
His lips followed hers mindlessly, though with the angle of her head, he’d missed and made contact with her jaw. It was just as good, he figured as he allowed himself the chance to glide his lips against the tip of her chin and slowly worked them down the column of her throat.
“Wrap your leg around me,” he urged breathlessly as he glanced over his shoulder to note which floor they were currently on.
Tenth floor. Six more to go.
She did as he demanded, her leg hitching up over his knee which he used to hold her open. Staring at him with glassy eyes, she giggled softly. “My my. What would your wife think if she knew what you were up to?”
He nipped lightly at her throat and chuckled. “She’d probably be grateful that I’m damn near two seconds from not giving a shit and fucking her in this elevator, but…” he paused briefly as he watched her face when his fingers moved her knickers aside and he was slipping one finger slowly inside of her, “… I suppose this is just as good, yeah, love?”
He watched as her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head as he worked that finger inside of her hot, tight pussy. Moving slowly back and forth until he was able to push fully inside. Then, he pulled all the way back out and did it all over again.
She clutched tighter to him just before he slid a second finger inside of her and continued to rock into her.
“Oh god… Colin…”
He could tell how worked up she was. Her cheeks were flushing a delightful pink color as he pushed his fingers into her soft, wet heat over and over and over again. He wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her closer as his occupied hand continued to move in a steady rhythm.
Her forehead pressed into his shoulder as her hips began to move against him. He had her in a complete choke hold and all she could do was hand on for the ride.
“That’s right, Pen,” he whispered in her ear. “Take what you need.”
He pushed deep inside of her, pis palm flattening until the heel of it was pressing against her clit. She continued to grind down upon his fingers as she buried her face in his chest if only to muffle the screams she was trying not to make.
She was completely lost in the pleasure he was giving her. Grinding, panting, practically weeping from the feelings he was eliciting in her.
“That’s it,” he murmured as he placed gentle kisses wherever his lips could reach on her neck.
“You’re doing so well…”
“Ride my fingers, baby…”
As the elevator passed by the thirteenth floor, he felt her inner walls begin to flutter around his fingers. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head once he felt her begin to tense up as she edged ever closer to her orgasm.
“Come for me, Pen.”
One. Two. Three more strokes and she was falling apart in his arms. His fingers didn’t let up between her thighs, keeping his words soft and encouraging as he helped her ride it out until she was trembling and practically collapsing into his arms.
“Oh god…” she moaned as every one of her muscles practically melted until she was literal putty as she lay pressed against his chest.
He chuckled, feeling extremely proud of himself that he’d managed to get her off before they’d reached their floor. That had to be some sort of record.
“You okay?” he softly asked her as he held her close and ran tender and affirming caresses along her back. He slid his fingers from inside of her, bringing them to his mouth to taste her. Her familiar flavor washed over his tongue, sending a jolt of desire to race down his spine.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so okay,” she joked when she was finally able to lift her head to look up at him. “That was… wow.”
If that wasn’t a stamp of approval, he didn’t know what was. He smiled triumphantly as he let her lean back against the wall for a moment as he knelt down to pick up her book just as the elevator chimed as it came to a stop again. The doors opened to reveal the hallway of the sixteenth floor.
He reached for her hand and tugged her out into the hallway. “Come on. I’m not done with you yet.”
She followed behind him, still quite boneless and slightly dazed behind him—if he had to compare it to anything, it would be like she was drunk. She giggled as they paused in front of their suite.
He turned back to look at her briefly, her smile infectious enough that he couldn’t resist smiling himself. “What?”
“You know, if anyone ever watches the security footage from that elevator, we’ll probably never be allowed back here.”
He found himself laughing along with her as he swiped the room key and gave the door a shove to open in. “Probably,” he agreed as he pulled her inside. “But ultimately worth it.”
The suite was quite large and had also been decorated for Christmas. A large—and likely real—Christmas tree had been set up and decorate with those same handmade ornaments he’d noticed down at the bar. There was also a fire burning in one of the two fireplaces in the lounge. A tray of sweets was waiting for them on the coffee table, as was a bottle of champagne on ice.
“What’s all this?” she asked. None of this had been here when she had come up to dress for their little game.
Colin shrugged and pulled her close so that her back was pressed up against his front. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight. “Maybe it’s me just trying to wow you some more.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “How’d I do?”
She chuckled and leaned into his chest some more. “Getting there,” she shrugged.
“Hmm…” he hummed, trying to think of something else. “Did I mention that this is the only suite on this floor and we can be as loud as we want?” He finally took the chance to take her earlobe between his teeth and nipped it lightly.
That seemed to peak her interest. “Well… if that’s the case…” she turned in his embrace, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. She kissed him tenderly. “...why don’t you pop open that champagne and let’s see how many more times you can wow me?”