Robin Turner entered the Mondego Hotel’s ground-floor lounge like a gust of arctic air. Her long blonde hair was restrained in a sleek chignon and her lush body was encased in a pale blue dress that wrapped around her curves and tied at the waist. Nude-colored heels gave the impression that she was barefoot, while a chunky aquamarine necklace circled her throat like ice cubes. Paul’s grip on his beer bottle tightened and his dick thickened in his jeans. How they’d ended up in bed together was still a mystery to him. One minute they were riding the same elevator and the next he was riding her, the attraction so fierce and immediate he couldn’t remember how they reached his room or even shed their clothes. Taking a long pull on his beer, his gaze followed Robin’s progress across the barroom. She approached a booth where a guy in a suit stood to greet her. The man kissed each of her cheeks before they sat. Paul knew he couldn’t stay in the same room with her and not have her, so he gestured for the bartender and ordered a martini extra-dirty to be sent to her table.
