Erotica Harem

Title: Zoe’s Return-Secrets of Lockridge, Bk 1
Chapter: Chapter 3
Author: Pat
Plot: Zoe finds it hard to keep her distance from Kevin. He makes her want to forget everything but having a good time but she remembers that danger is looming near and it would be a mistake to start something with him.
Style & Voice: There’s two characters in the middle of the chapter, two actresses that really aren’t necessary for the story to move forward but Pat does find a way to make their presence useful by informing the reader of how old Zoe is, how successful her career is and how rich she’s become because of it.
Referencing: None
Scene/Setting: The chapter starts off with Zoe and Kevin in a car driving down a road(not really much description about the surroundings) and then it changes to a fancy hotel. There’s not much detail about the looks of the hotel but Pat does a good job of describing the snobby women.
Characters: There’s still just the main characters of Zoe and Kevin. Zoe is starting to become more forthcoming on why she doesn’t want Kevin to stay around her and Kevin doesn’t hesitate to tell her just how much he wants to be with her.
Grammar: The grammar seems to be pretty good. There were just a few small problems.
Just My Personal Opinion: Ready to see what happens next. What danger is looming closer? How will Zoe handle it?

Corrections:
Chapter Three

As Zoë settled into the comfortable bucket seat, the engine roared to life and slowed into the rumbling purr of a powerful, well-tuned engine. Beside her, Kevin manipulated the clutch, the brake, and the gearshift with expert ease. The car rolled away form the curb and a slight breeze blew loose tendrils of hair around her face. Kevin eased into noisy city traffic and increased speed so the breeze turned into a true wind.
Unable to resist, Zoë reached up and pulled the band from her pony tail. The wind blew her hair out behind her. She combed her fingers through the wildly dancing mass and grinned, wishing she had a car like this. She might indulge in leisurely drives along winding roads, or speed runs along the same roads.
A burst of exhilarated laughter escaped her. She turned her head and gave Kevin a brilliant smile. Pleasure bubbled in her blood, poured out of her, and she forgot her wariness. His pleasure in the ride shone in his eyes, curving his lips into a smile that dazzled her senses.
“I know a sweet stretch of road along the coast,” he said over the rush of the wind. “You can really see what this baby will can do.”
Oh, he tempted her. For a single intense moment, Zoë wanted to throw caution to the wind in a fast wild ride up the coast with Kevin. The very idea thrilled her, added to the exhilaration of the wind in her hair, the building and people flashing by, as Kevin kept the car at the very edge of the legal speed limit. With a reluctant shake of her head, Zoë pulled back from temptation.
“Uh, no. I’d rather just go to the hotel.” She refused his invitation reluctantly. But wisely, she thought. “I really have a lot to do.”
He nodded, his attention on the road ahead. “Some other time, maybe.”
She shrugged, disappointed by her decision but determined not to get involved with him. She did not need a man in her life, especially when danger loomed closer.
Sometime during the twenty-minute drive, exhaustion caught up with her. The smooth motion of the car sent her into a light doze; much like a midnight drive put a fussy baby to sleep. Her lashes drifted down. Her body relaxed. Her head rested on the back of the seat. The wind streamed over her face. A strange sense of utter contentment swept over her.
The wind slowed to a gentle breeze and finally stopped. Still night air surrounded her and her lashes fluttered at the realization the car no longer moved. The door she leaned on opened, nearly spilling her out of the car. Dazed, she forced her feet to the ground. Strong hands wrapped around her upper arms and pulled her to her feet. Her eyes snapped open. Ensnared in Kevin Reed's dark stare, she stumbled.
“Are you all right?”
She shook her head, clearing the half asleep haze from her mind. “Yeah, thanks. I’m just tired.”
He flashed a quick(,) sexy grin. “I can see that.”
She pulled out of his grasp. As she started toward the hotel entrance, he tossed his keys to the valet and fell into step beside her. Zoë stopped and turned to face him.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He shot her a puzzled glance. “I’m walking you to your room.”
“Why?” s eh (she)demanded, suspicion frosting her tone.
“It’s polite?”
He looked confused and Zoë let out a sigh at her overreaction. Being a gentleman, Kevin would naturally escort her to her door. She lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, turned on her heel, and approached the hotel double doors. He easily kept pace with her and, before she did it, pushed open the door, took her hand, and ushered her inside.
Even after midnight, the opulent lobby bustled with activity. Bellhops, clerks, the concierge, all hustled to keep their patrons pampered and happy. The rich and famous stood around, accepting all activity and deference as their due. Several voices raised in sharp displeasure caught her ear. She winced at the tantrums of the spoiled wealthy.
Without conscious thought she quickened her pace to the elevators and jabbed a finger on the ‘up’ button. In a gesture of casual patience, she stuck her thumbs in her pockets and glanced idly around the luxurious lobby that positively reeked of money.
With five best sellers numbered among her many titles in the past five years, Zoë had become used to having as much money as she needed. It still startled and amazed her, however, that she now possessed more money than she ever dreamed possible. Her annual income and numerous well thought out investments put her in the same rich group as the people in the hotel but spending lavishly, especially on herself, never appealed to her.
Two well dressed women joined her and Kevin at the elevators. They looked familiar but Zoë failed to put names to the faces. One woman, a sleek blond with a fur coat draped over her arm in spite of the evening warmth, jabbed the button several times and let out an exasperated huff of breath. She shot a sharp glance around the lobby and glared at the bellhop struggling to push a wheeled cart overloaded with expensive(,) matched luggage. There had to be more clothes on that cart than Zoë owned.
Her gaze moved back to the two fidgeting women. The second woman, a brunette with hard blue eyes, muttered, “You’d think, for the amount of money this place costs, the elevators would be prompt.” She peered at another bellhop pushing another heavily laden cart. “And the help would be marginally competent.”
“Just can’t get good help these days,” the blond sniped in agreement. She glared at the elevator. “This thing is too slow. Hurry up!”
Zoë squelched a grin. “Lighten up, people,” she murmured for Kevin’s ears alone.
An amused gleam in his eye, he squeezed her hand and released it. His lips twitched as he shrugged out of his coat, laid it over one arm, and settled the other arm across her shoulders. The two women stopped glaring at the elevator doors and focused on her and Kevin.
“Kevin Reed?” the brunette squealed like a high school girl. “How marvelous to see you. Who is your little friend?”
Her gaze moved over Zoë, lingered for a moment and narrowed in distaste. Reminded of her casual attire, Zoë stifled the urge to smack the rich bitch. Little friend, indeed, she fumed. At forty years old, Zoë Adams was not a ‘little friend’ Kevin Reed found while ‘slumming’.
“Ladies,” Kevin intoned, calm and polite though his eyes turned icy.
Tension radiated from him. His arm tightened around her shoulders. Zoë didn’t want or need support but relished the comfort of his casual embrace.
“Jennifer, Katie, meet Zoë Adams.” He made the introduction in a low formal tone that for some reason teased her sense of humor. She stifled a giggle long enough to offer her hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
She had dealt with her rising fame the past few years, long enough not to be star struck by a couple of bitchy(,) famous actresses.
“You write wonderful romances,” they gushed in unison.
Treated to airy kisses and enthusiastic handshakes, Zoë didn’t add she also wrote science-fiction and horror, her better known genres. Fortunately, the elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. The actresses ducked inside, waving at the harried bellhops before stepping aside to allow room for others.
“I don’t think so,” Zoë muttered. “God, I could use a drink.”
“We could go into the lounge for a while,” Kevin suggested with a politeness contrary to the amused gleam in his eyes. His gaze swept over the bustling lobby. “Maybe the crowd will thin out a little.”
“Hmm, I’d rather have that drink in the peace and quiet of my room,” she replied but could not keep the fact that he tempted her out of her voice. “I have a lot to do. I can take the stairs or wait for another elevator.”
“I don’t mind a drink in your room.” Interest flared in his eyes, turning them a golden brown.
“That wasn’t meant…” she began, her face flaming.
“As an invitation, I know,” he assured with a quick grin.
Another group of patrons and bellhops headed toward them. Kevin took her hand, urging her into the relative privacy of a nearby telephone alcove.
“I’m not quite ready to give up your company yet,” he told her with stark honesty. “I swear I’ll behave. I won’t touch you…”
“Unless I want you to, I know.” Zoë responded, equally honest. “That’s the problem. Part of me wants you to touch me.”
His expression registered surprise that did nothing to hide the flare of desire in his eyes. She swallowed hard. What had she started with that reckless admission? Uncertain and more than a little embarrassed, she lowered her gazes(should be singular form-gaze) to the silver clasp on his tie. Through the stark white silk of his shirt, she caught the shadow of dark chest hair. Her mouth went dry and her fingers itched to glide over hard muscle, through that sprinkle of hair. She swallowed again and met his steady gaze.
“What’s the problem?” The intensity in his dark eyes contradicted his casual tone.
“There is no problem. “ She looked past his shoulder into the lobby. “I’m simply don’t want to do this.”
“Yes, you do.” He took her chin in a loose grip, urging her to look him in the eye. “And I want you with an intensity I’ve never felt before.”
The elevator bell interrupted their pseudo-privacy. Zoë glanced around but no one paid them any attention.
“Do you really want to talk about this here?”
“I don’t want to talk about it at all,” she stated and jerked away from him.
She darted toward the elevator and (slid or walked)inside just as the doors started to close. Turning, she caught him watching her. The doors slid closed and she let out a relieved breath. (you use the word close twice here. What if you substituted it with shut.)