Chance (The One More Night Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

last one on the right,” Chance said as he motioned toward the far end of the hall, which, in my current hormonal state, looked as if it was a good mile away from us.
    Despite the hallway’s width, I didn’t walk beside him—instead, I walked just behind him so that I could watch and admire him.  There was nothing effete in how he carried himself, nothing that suggested that he’d been trained since youth to project a certain kind of refinement.
    Tonight’s charitable event had been populated mostly by society, but I had worked enough of these parties to know that there always was a balance between the old money and the new.  And because I’d come from poverty myself, it was easy for me to discern who was who. 
    Chance was new money.
    I could tell because he didn’t move as if he was born into money—he wasn’t rigid.  Nothing about him seemed uptight or stiff.  On the contrary, he was loose.  He walked with an appealing sense of rugged confidence that came from having achieved something great in life.
    I found it wildly attractive.  The man reeked of raw sexuality, and it gave me pause.  Who was he?  Did he own his own business?  A corporation?  Had things recently taken off for him, and was it true that he didn’t have time for women because he was too busy?  
    It was possible.  I was a voracious reader of the Times , and I knew that for some people who were in the right place at the right time, becoming a multi-millionaire could indeed happen quickly.  There was so much innovation happening in the world right now—and so many major corporations eager to purchase those innovations so they could keep their rivals at bay—it seemed as if I read about huge and unexpected success stories every week.
    Did that happen to you? I wondered.   Did you begin some start-up that was snapped up before somebody else could buy it? 
    I didn’t know—but then I knew nothing about the man other than the kindness he’d shown me earlier and the sexual heat he’d unleashed between us in the elevator.
    With each step I took, I felt a burning within me that I couldn’t quell.  I wanted to feel him against me again.  I wanted his lips on mine again.  I wanted to break into a run and get to his damned suite to continue what we’d just left behind.  But I checked myself.  I kept pace with him.  I bided my time even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.
    And then he stopped.
    As if he could sense what I was feeling, he turned to me, and I saw in his eyes the impatience I felt in my soul.  With a swiftness that surprised me, he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me onto one of the tables.
    “What are you doing?” I asked.
    “You ask too many questions.”
    He removed the vase of peonies that was beside me, put it down on the floor, and then moved in to kiss me.  When he did, I placed my hands on his hips, and kissed him back despite the fear lacing through me.  I was the hired help.  He was the wealthy guest.  If we got caught, it was my head that would roll, not his.
    “The hallway’s too long,” he said.  “Don’t you agree?  I just want a taste.”
    Before I could process what he had in mind, he lowered the neckline of my dress and exposed the black, lacy bra I wore beneath it.  He unhooked the clasp in the front with practiced ease and parted the material, releasing my breasts into the cool air.
    “You’re perfect,” he said.
    I felt at once exposed and wildly caught up in the moment.  I looked up and down the hallway, fearful that, at any instant, a door would open, somebody would leave their room, and we’d be publicly shamed. 
    But when Chance covered his mouth over one of my nipples and began to taunt it with his tongue, I started to soar again.  Instead of worrying about this, I welcomed it.  I gave into it.  I let go of my fear of getting caught, wrapped my legs around him, and allowed my head to fall back against the wall as he continued to tempt each nipple until the