Emma stayed quiet as they picked up their luggage from the baggage claim and settled into the back of a taxi. He really needed a few moments alone to process everything that had just happened. He wasn’t used to being a public spectacle, so this was a new and unwelcome feeling.

When they reached the hotel, it didn’t even surprise him to learn that instead of two rooms, there was only one reservation. Of course, the hotel was booked to capacity with several conventions in progress. Perhaps he should consider himself lucky that the room had two double beds. At least it was only for one night, right? Surely they now had covered every possible disaster for this trip. He could lock himself in the bathroom for a while if he needed privacy. On second thought, as soon as he dropped off his bag, he was hitting the hotel bar . . . alone.

Emma woke in a strange room completely disoriented. The sun streamed in, causing her vision to blur as her eyes adjusted to the light.

“Well, good morning, sunshine, I see you finally decided to join the land of the living.”

She almost panicked until she felt the fabric of her clothing against the palm of her hand. For a moment, she had been afraid that they’d . . . God, no. She’d never been more grateful to wake up in her old T-shirt. Miami . . . room mix-up, check.

“Ugh,” she groaned, “what time is it?”

“It’s a little after eight. Why don’t you pull yourself together and we’ll go have some breakfast?” He gave her a look that indicated he wasn’t sure it was possible.

She pulled the covers over her head and waved him toward the door. “You go on. I think I’ll pass.”

Suddenly the comforter was jerked from her hands and Brant loomed over her. “Oh no, sweetheart, you’re not getting off that easy. I have gone through hell for you on this trip and you owe me. You have ten minutes. Do what you can and meet me downstairs in the lobby.”

“Good grief, when did you turn into such a drama queen?”

Giving her a disbelieving look, he snarled, “Drama queen? You almost got me fucking strip-searched yesterday at the airport. Did you expect that we would sit around today and have a good laugh over the whole thing?”

She was still a bit hazy on the events of the previous day, but she refused to let him one-up her. “Well, I’m sure a strip search would have been a thrill for you. Perhaps the highlight of your whole year. You should be thanking me instead of whining.” She barely had time to think Uh-oh, maybe I went a little too far before she was jerked from the bed and held tightly against his broad chest.

“If I’m so lacking in female company, maybe you should help me out. Why don’t you show me what I’ve been missing? I believe you called me fuckable yesterday.” She barely had time to gasp in surprise before his lips swooped down to claim hers. Her hands landed on his shoulders to push him away, but instead she found herself gripping the fabric of his suit jacket in her hands, holding on for dear life. His lips plundered and claimed, seeking to both punish and assert dominance. She was surprised to hear the throaty moan and realize that it was coming from her. Almost against her will, she slid closer to him, instinctively seeking the warmth of his hard body against hers. She felt him jerk against her as her tongue rose to meet his, desperate for a taste of his heat. Her mouth protested the activity, still tender from her root canal, but she didn’t care. What had begun, she knew, as a punishment was now rapidly spiraling into something that neither of them had been expecting.

Emma felt his hard-on against her stomach and she stretched to run her hands through his hair, desperate to anchor him to her. When his mouth moved from her lips to her neck, she moaned, “Brant . . .” It was as if a dam had collapsed between them. All of the usual animosity they felt for each other was being channeled in another direction and she was powerless to resist . . . she had no desire to resist him. His jacket hit the floor, followed shortly by his shirt and tie. She barely had time to run her hands up the velvety skin of his chest before he was ripping the thin T-shirt she had slept in over her head. She didn’t consider herself the most athletic person in the world but when Brant settled his big hands on her ass, she gripped his arms and jumped against him, wrapping her legs around his narrow, muscled waist. God, he felt good against her damp heat.

Brant ground his cock against her as she nibbled and sucked on his neck. A growl rumbled up through his chest before he dropped her backward onto the bed. She propped her head on her arms to appreciate the masculine beauty before her. His eyes, almost black with desire, caught and held hers as his hands went to his belt. She could see the outline of his cock pushing against the fabric of his slacks. He finished unbuckling his belt and had his slacks hanging open before she could blink. The bulge in his black boxer briefs was threatening to break loose as he kicked his feet free of both his shoes and pants.

She rose on her knees, desperate to touch him. His breath caught as her hand stroked him through the cotton of his briefs. She didn’t think either of them was going to make it long, so she pulled the waistband of his briefs down, causing his big cock to spring free. She wrapped one hand around the base while she used her other hand to rub the precum that glistened on the tip along his shaft.

“Emma . . . can’t take much more,” he groaned before pulling her hand away. He grabbed a condom from his wallet and deftly rolled it on. She felt her sex clenching in anticipation as his big body settled over hers. She had never felt the need to be in control during sex, but something about the dynamics of her relationship with Brant had brought that need to the fore. Before he could penetrate her, she pushed against his shoulder until he was lying on his back. He looked at her in surprise before giving her a knowing grin. He settled a hand around the base of his cock.

“Take it any way you want to, baby.” Emma didn’t need to be told twice. She had never wanted anyone this much. Any second thoughts that she may have had were quickly discarded and she moved up Brant’s big body. She hovered, looking down at his large shaft with both anticipation and trepidation. He was so big and, in this position, he would go deep. Almost as if he understood her fear, Brant’s hands settled against her ass, giving her the support to take him as slowly as she needed.

When his tip breached her entrance, she threw her head back, moaning at the incredible feeling. Brant’s eyes stayed locked with hers as she continued to take him slowly, inch by inch. She could feel his hands shaking and his breathing grow shallow, but he never rushed her. He let her set the pace until, with a gasp of surprise, he was buried to the hilt inside of her. Emma had a fleeting moment to wonder if all of their needling of each other had been leading up to this moment all along. Had this been the inevitable outcome between two people so hell-bent on getting the best of the other?