The Hotel Magnate's Demand

So she’d left—decided on a fresh start in Sydney.

Her parents had been upset. His parents had been angry. Laurie had called every day for the first three months. Amy had wanted to relent. She’d spent three months crying and talking and trying to explain why she’d needed to do what she had but they hadn’t listened.

It had made being in Sydney even harder. She’d felt deserted. Judged. And all she’d been trying to do was be happy. But the people in her life who claimed to care about her the most had seemed to want the opposite of that. They’d wanted her to settle. Be happy with what she had because it made them happy.

The only thing that had got her through was Jess and Willa and her work. Her parents had come round eventually too, but she still had to stay busy and high—otherwise she’d be reminded of how she’d let everyone down, and then all she’d want to do was go back home and make it up to them. Go back and make everyone happy.

‘You’re quiet, Amy. You’re never quiet. What’s wrong?’

Luke’s voice broke gently into the silence.

‘Nothing. Just tired, I guess.’ She was tired. Tired of always trying not to think about the things that made her unhappy.

‘I’m tired too. So much for me being a massive party animal tonight.’

He smiled and shoved his shoulder gently into hers. She shoved him back and he shoved her again. Their gentle shoves soon turned into pushing, and finally a little wrestling.

Luke grabbed at the back of her head. ‘You always did think you were tough, Lollipop, but I know you’re not.’

Amy pushed Luke’s hand away. ‘I’m tougher than you think, Boss.’

Luke smiled, ‘You haven’t called me that in a long time. I think I like it.’

The wrestling stopped. The air in the taxi turned a little thick. Amy stopped moving and stilled her hand where in rested, on his thigh. High on his thigh. His hand stilled on her head.

‘You like it when I call you Boss?’

Amy’s eyes skated to Luke’s lips. They were slightly parted. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to do bad, bad things to him.

‘I like having your hand there.’ Luke’s voice was deep, and he shifted his leg a little where her hand sat.

There was no mistaking what he wanted and how he felt. It sent a thrilling ripple through her to think that she could finally have what she’d wanted all those years ago. Time alone with Luke. Luke wanting her. It was everything she’d wanted as an eighteen-year-old and she could finally take it—if she wanted.

Carefully she shifted a little closer, her eyes still on his lips, her hand inching further up his thigh.

‘Like this?’

A deep, low growl escaped from Luke’s lips and Amy felt herself heat from the sound of it. This was it.

Quickly she pulled her hand away. ‘You wish,’ she said lightly, trying to clear the fog in her brain and the memory of his green eyes on her as she moved her hand up his leg.

Luke didn’t answer. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or embarrassed.

But then his hand moved and settled on her thigh. ‘Good move, Lollipop,’ he said quietly as the taxi finally came to a stop.

The heat of his hand on her thigh seared through her clothing. Why had she chosen that night to become responsible and sensible? She didn’t want to be sensible. She wanted to be eighteen and reckless and to throw herself on Luke right here in the back seat of the taxi.

But she knew she couldn’t. Because there was no way it would be a one-night thing with Luke and she couldn’t offer him any more than that. She wasn’t ready for another relationship. She didn’t want to get involved in anyone’s life. She still hadn’t dealt with the fallout of her last failed relationship—she sure as hell wasn’t about to throw herself into another mess.

She also knew that if Luke only wanted a one-night thing she’d be heartbroken. And, as she felt her body heat from her toes to her forehead at the mere touch of his hand on her leg, she knew in an instant that anything with Luke would get messy.

‘Thanks for bringing me home, Luke. You didn’t have to—but thanks anyway.’

‘Any time, Lolli. I’m here for a few months now. I’ll be around if you ever need me…for anything.’

Anything? Like hot sex?

‘I should be all right. I’ve survived eight years without you so far.’ Amy laughed, trying to keep it light. Trying to prevent him from seeing what she really wanted—for him to grab her, kiss her and insist on coming in.

But he didn’t do that. He took his hand off her knee and opened the door to get out.

‘No! No. Don’t get out. I can walk to the front door.’

‘I’m walking you to your front door, Amy.’

‘No. You’re not.’

She would punch him square in the face if she had to. She didn’t want him walking her to the door, because she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t throw herself on him for a kiss goodnight, then force him to come upstairs and have his wicked way with her. No. A nice, chaste goodbye in the cab was the right thing to do.

But the kiss he landed on her cheek felt anything but chaste. It was soft at first, then he moved a little, closer to her lips and kissed her again, using his lips to soothe and caress her cheek. A kiss on the cheek—that was all it was—but Amy felt like melting right into him.

‘Luke…’ She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. Don’t. Stop. But those words wouldn’t come out and the way she said his name sounded like a sigh.

‘Amy.’ He kissed her again, this time using his big hand to pull her cheek closer to him.

One touch. That was all she needed. To feel his skin one time. That would be enough.

Amy rested her hand back on his thigh and turned to face him. She kept her eyes on his—that way she’d know when he got too close and be able to pull away. But he didn’t kiss her again. His mouth turned up a little at one side, but he kept his eyes on hers.

Amy’s hand moved slowly but surely to his torso, and up further. She could feel the hardness of his stomach underneath her touch. She wanted skin. She needed to feel his warmth. So she tugged at his shirt till it was released from his waistband and enjoyed the relief coursing through her body as she hit his skin and continued moving upwards till she rested her hand on his chest. Hard and hot.

‘That’ll be twenty-four-fifty.’

The voice of the taxi driver broke the spell. Luke moved quickly, extracting the money from his wallet, practically throwing it at him, then flying out through the car door before Amy could protest. He was at her side and opening the door before she had time to breathe.

Stepping out into the night air should have felt better, should have cleared her head, but as the taxi sped away Luke stepped closer and she breathed in his scent again. Her head fogged. She turned into that silly besotted teenager all over again.

‘Now how are you going to get home?’ Her voice whispered it in the night.

‘Maybe I won’t go home.’ His words were clear and gruff in her ear.

Amy moved closer as his arms encircled her waist. Maybe if she just felt his skin again she’d be done. She’d be able to move on.

‘I like the feel of your skin.’

No. She wouldn’t be done. His skin was hot and smooth, except for a sprinkling of hair on his stomach. She fingered it before moving her hands up and gripping his chest. She felt him tense and flex. This was more than flirting. This was dangerous territory. But with Luke it didn’t feel dangerous. Exciting. Wrong. But not dangerous.