Kept by Jami Alden

of her from his mouth, as his brain started asking him all kinds of questions about what the fuck he thought he was doing.
    “I called my driver to pick me up.”
    Derek turned to face her. She stood just inside the living room, back in her red silk dress. With her shoes off, she was even shorter than he’d originally thought, topping out at about five foot two, five three, max. She’d washed her face and wiped away the heavy layers of mascara, powder, and lip gloss. Now he could see the freckles across her small nose, see that her thick, full lashes were the same golden brown as her hair.
    With her small stature and delicate features, she could have passed for a teenager. Thank God she wasn’t.
    Her lips curled in a knowing smile. “Don’t worry. I’m twenty-four. I’ll show you my driver’s license if you’re really worried.”
    Twenty-four. Still too young for his own thirty-two. Not that it mattered, as this wasn’t going anywhere. Derek held up his hand. “I’m not.” She might look young, but she fucked with the confidence of a woman. His cock thickened behind his fly, more than ready to test that confidence again, but she was slipping on her shoes, ready to make her escape.
    He bit back a wave of disappointment and fought the urge to talk her into round two. He should be grateful she was leaving on her own, as eager to get out of there as he was to have her gone. Okay, maybe he wasn’t as eager as he should be, taking one last, regretful look at her slim, silky legs and heartbreaker face.
    He had about a thousand different things he’d still like to do to her, he’d barely scratched the surface. But she was dangerous to him, to his peace of mind, to his carefully constructed detachment. Even a guy who didn’t spend too much time on self-reflection could see that.
    Best to get her out of there, end this whole crazy night now.
    “Do you mind giving me a ride to the Four Seasons? I asked my driver to pick me up there.”
    His brow knit. “Why not just have him pick you up here? Or, better yet, I can give you a ride home.”
    She shook her head and gave him a smile he couldn’t quite read. “I like to keep things mysterious. Let’s keep this our secret.”
    He shrugged and grabbed his keys and wallet. It wasn’t his job to decipher the whims of a woman he barely knew.
    Within ten minutes they were at the hotel.
    “Pull into the parking lot and park over there,” she said, indicating a row of spaces a good fifty yards from the main entrance. He could see a town car idling in the circular driveway.
    “So, should I call you or something?” He mentally punched himself as the question slid past his lips. He needed to let this go right here, right now. He had no intention of calling her and no business giving her the idea he meant to.
    She turned to him, and in the darkness he could just make out her soft smile. “How about I look for you at the next charity auction, and we’ll leave it at that?”
    A sharp stab hit him, something that felt way too close to regret for his comfort. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”
    She leaned over the gearshift and kissed him, sweet, soft, and hot, sliding her tongue in his mouth for a last, lingeringtaste. “It was really nice meeting you, Derek. Thank you for a lovely evening.”
    She was out of the car and halfway across the parking lot before he could formulate a reply.
    Lovely.
    He sat there, watching her disappear into the night, feeling like a grenade had gone off in his chest. And she said it was “lovely.”
    He’d count himself lucky if he never laid eyes on Alyssa Miles again.

C HAPTER 3
    T HE ONLY DOWNSIDE to acting on her impulses was the inevitable crash back into reality. Alyssa closed her eyes and sank into the leather seat of the town car. Pleasure still sizzled through her in tiny bursts, faint echoes of the most mind-blowing orgasms she’d ever had in her entire life.
    “You’ll have to remind me exactly where you live, Miss Miles!”