Thrive Read Online Free PDF Page A

I smiled at his response. I couldn’t help it. Our eyes locked and that connection I thought was no more crackled between us. “The coffee is getting cold.”
    I stepped forward and slipped my hand into the pocket of his pants. I grabbed the keys, the backs of my fingers catching him unexpectedly. Even soft, he was impressive, virile, designed to please women, and my heart skipped a beat. My body ached for him as I withdrew my hand from his pocket and jingled the keys between us.
    “I guess I don’t need to ask how it’s hanging.”
    He laughed, a throaty laugh that had my toes curling in my sandals. I smiled as I inserted the key in the lock and opened the door. I felt Curtis’ eyes burning into me as we stepped into the room and he kicked the door shut behind us.
    “Take your shoes off,” he ordered, setting our breakfast on the dresser.
    “Why?”
    “Because I don’t want you breaking an ankle.”
    A protective edge laced his voice and I knew something so simple, something he had no control over, had stolen his thoughts. I had to keep the mood light.
    “I’m a woman. Surviving these things is wired into our genes.”
    I knew he wanted to smile. I couldn’t see if he did, but I was hopeful.
    “Just take them off.” He tore sugar sachets open with his teeth and poured them into our coffees. “Take them off and sit on the bed,”
    I did as he asked, slipping out of my heels and sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Curtis was stirring a coffee with a little wooden stick when there was knock on the door. I gasped and my skin prickled. Who knew we were here? Why did I feel like we were on the run? Curtis crossed the room fluidly and opened the door. He accepted a large brown paper bag from the member of hotel staff on the other side. A little early to have them running errands, was it not? He shut the door, placed the bag next to me and collected up our coffee and breakfast. He stopped at the foot of the bed and frowned when he looked at my legs.
    “You sit on your butt and fold one leg under the other.” I grinned.
    “It looks unnatural.” He winced and tried not to smile, but it broke through and darted across his lips. It was a stunning smile, and one I hadn’t seen enough of.
    He handed me our coffees and laid across the bed, his head propped up on one end and his long, muscular legs dangled over the other. He swapped the paper bag for his coffee and I set our breakfast out; toast, butter and two little glass jars of strawberry jam.
    “I knew they’d do that.”  He threw the jars across the room and reached into his pocket to replace them with two sachets of Nutella.
    “You don’t like-?” I halted, remembering the story he told me all those years ago. He was thinking of his parents, his mother. That tiny act of disregard told me part of what haunted him.
    “No,” he answered my unfinished question and began buttering toast with a little plastic knife.
    “I thought we only had fifteen minutes?” I swiped a slice of buttery, hazelnut and chocolatey toast and sunk my teeth into it.
    My stomach growled in satisfaction and a similar sound hummed in my throat. I was starving.
    “It’s still early…we have some time.”
    He bit into his slice, making the same sound of reunion between food, mouth and stomach as I had.
    I leaned over and reached towards him, wiping my thumb over his lips to catch the crumbs and popping it into my mouth. Curtis groaned again, but not because of the food.
    “Look in the bag,” he said by means of distraction and took a mouthful of his coffee.
    The mix of scents – Curtis, coffee and Nutella – made the warmth in my blood return. My senses were jacked. So jacked. I still had no idea what was going on; I wanted him, but I didn’t want to. I needed him and I didn’t know why.
    I brushed my hands clean and reached into the bag, pulling out a pair of dark jeans and a crisp white t-shirt. A grey jacket came out next, along with a pair of ballet pumps of the