Read Online Best Erotic Romance 2014 by Kristina Wright - Free Book Online

recalled, most of the inhabitants of the Florida metropolis where she’d lived hadn’t blinked at an eighteen-year-old walking around with bright-purple hair and wearing vinyl from head to toe.
    This northeastern crowd seemed to expect more from a thirtysomething woman on the arm of a man in a business suit. Joyce looked up at Pete, and his smile was calm as he met her eyes. She pressed closer to his body as they arrived at the counter. Pete requested a room from the woman behind it.
    Joyce met the receptionist’s eyes and at first shrugged off the fact that the woman didn’t smile back. As she took Pete’s credit card information and explained the policies to him in a tight voice, the reason for the cool reception finally dawned on Joyce.
    She thinks he’s paying me .
    The receptionist finished with the transaction and handed Pete their key cards. Joyce was still looking at her, and the woman made eye contact one more time and actually glared at her, clearing her throat pointedly before turning away to reach for the phone. Joyce stood still, shocked by the recognition she’d just undergone but even more shocked by the woman’s demeanor. What if he were paying her? Would it be that much of a reason to dispose of all customs of politeness and customer service?
    Pete put his arm around her, and Joyce clacked with him across the shiny floor to the elevators. The sound level in the lobby had gradually risen, though Joyce didn’t doubt at this point that some of the voices they heard were murmuring about them. What a very odd society they lived in. Was it that big of a deal if someone wanted to dress differently from the standard nine-to-five cookie-cutter bullshit in this city? As for the whore perception, who gave a shit if she was taking Pete upstairs to fuck him for money? What business was it of theirs?
    Joyce felt a slither of the rebellious anger she’d experienced almost constantly in her teenage years. The familiarity was noticeable even as it was tempered—or perhaps complemented—by the fifteen years of life she’d lived between then and now. She was surprised to realize she hadn’t felt that energy for a long time. It added something—potency? passion?—to her immediate experience as they reached the elevator bank. It was what made her untie her coat and shrug out of it as they stood waiting for one to arrive. Calmly she folded her coat over one arm, unsure if the noise level had just lowered a notch again or if it was only her imagination.
    An elevator arrived, and they stepped into it. They were alone.
    â€œJeez, I forgot the kind of reaction wearing this in publicmight get.” Joyce did her best to keep her voice light as the doors closed behind them.
    Pete chuckled. “It would be nice to think people had better things to do than worry about what other people are wearing,” he agreed, his eyes on the numbers above the door as they beeped with each ascension.
    Joyce smiled and moved to hold his hand. He stiffened slightly, and she stopped. “What’s the matter?” For a second she feared the public’s reaction had reached her husband, that he was suddenly looking at her like they had. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” She blurted the words before she could stop herself.
    Pete’s chuckle turned to a guffaw. With another glance at the numbers, he turned fully toward her, and Joyce felt the heat emanating from his body as he seemed to move closer without taking a step. Joyce fell back a pace at the influx of intensity.
    â€œNo, I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. I’m a little jumpy because you look so fucking hot that I feel like a teenager about to blow a load in my pants just looking at you, and I want to fuck you up against the wall of this elevator right now. Feeling any part of you touch any part of me isn’t helping the restraint it’s taking not to do that. So what anybody