Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a sign near one of the shoeshine stands in the terminal. This used to be the Biltmore Room, and it’s being renovated in 2019 to return it to its former glory.
This is kismet.
This is poetry.
“Do you know what the Biltmore Room used to be?” I ask, a little breathless.
He shakes his head. “No, but I bet you do, little Miss New York Historian.”
“It was a room under the Biltmore Hotel where train travelers would meet their sweethearts. And kiss them. It was called The Kissing Room.”
His eyes sparkle. “Are you trying to tell me something, Lulu?”
“I believe I am.”
He steps closer, crowding me, backing me against the wall between the unmanned shoeshine booth and near the flower stand. He parks one palm against the wall. The other hand fiddles with my necklace. Oh yes, I like Commanding Leo very much.
“Would you like to be kissed, Lulu?” His face is inches from mine. His lips are taunting me with nearness.
All the breath rushes from my body and races down the corridor. “Yes.”
“How can I deny you?” He’s closer now, his jawline brushing my collarbone, his lips whispering near my throat.
A supernova blasts in my body. “Don’t. Don’t deny me. Kiss me.”
“Are you sure?” His lips barely dust my neck, and I can’t take it. I’m aching exquisitely for him. My lips beg him. My hands grab at him. I need him.
“So sure.”
He rewards me, his mouth sweeping over mine as he kisses me tenderly and possessively, making the rest of Grand Central Terminal slink away. We might as well be in Alaska or Antarctica, someplace where it’s only the two of us, kissing, against the world.
That’s how he kisses me.
Like there are no more questions.
No more worries.
No more past.
Only a present where mouths and lips and bodies collide.
He presses so hard against me that I can feel the delicious outline of his erection. I can feel it, and I want more of it. I want all of him. My hands slide around, grabbing his ass, and I nearly groan in ecstasy.
He has the best ass.
So firm, so yummy. So absolutely hold-on-able.
“Nice butt,” I murmur in between kisses.
“Nice everything,” he whispers then devours me more, and I’m quite sure I’ll be sporting some serious whisker burn and equally sure I don’t care.
Because this is why kissing was invented.
For moments like this.
I can’t get enough of him. My body has a mind of its own, and I start to move and grind against him. To rub against that ridge, to squeeze those cheeks.
My self-control gallops away, and I’m ready to beg him to take me here, to take me anywhere.
But a throat clears.
When my eyes snap open to see the shoeshine man setting polish on a leather chair, my face flushes red.
“Goddamn Kissing Room,” he mutters, and that’s our cue to get the hell out of there.
Or we’re going to have to rename The Kissing Room—The Home Run Room.
26LULU
When we return to the starting point of the hunt, I don’t mind that our team fell far behind today.
Because we felt more like a team than we did yesterday, and because tonight I’m seeing Leo.
No matter what RaeLynn says, getting involved with Leo isn’t a bad idea. It’s never been about the work. It’s never been about Heavenly. It’s been about me, rebuilding my life, refurbishing my business.
After the teams fan out, returning to their corporate homes, I grab him and pull him aside. “It’s not foolish anymore.”
He quirks up his lips. “Is that so? Did you remove the seal of foolishness sometime today?”
