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Tonight, I was going to enjoy myself in simple ways. My grocery bag sat on the counter, holding two prepackaged sushi rolls that I was already salivating for, and I had the physical copy of P&P, so I didn’t need to scour streaming services for it.
I decided to enjoy a little extra decadence and pulled out one of my nicer, softer blankets.
I washed the courtroom off of me, got into a pair of light summer pajamas, and had my movie cued—just in time to be interrupted.
Honestly, the knock at the door startled me. I wasn’t expecting anyone, I hadn’t ordered any packages recently, and my only friend was in another country—my apartment building wasn’t the most secure either, and I had just kept a mafia boss out of prison… I hesitated, wondering if my paranoia was justified, but the knock came again.
Well, no point in hiding, I thought, realizing that all my lights were on and whoever stood outside definitely knew I was home.
I glanced down at myself; my pajamas were loose and airy, but that didn’t hide my lack of bra or the scandalously short length of my shorts.
Honestly, they were barely long enough to be called that, with an inseam of all of an inch and a half. I didn’t relish the idea of opening the door so scantily clad with my hair dripping down my back, but I reasoned to myself that I was doing nothing wrong. I was just dressed comfortably while in my own home.
Besides, it was probably just one of my neighbors. And frankly, even if it wasn’t, what else did they expect when they knocked on someone’s door after dinner? I was allowed to get ready for bed early if I wanted to.
Steeling my nerves—just in case it was somebody with a bone to pick—I swung the door open, prepared to ask what they needed.
The words stopped short in my throat as I was met with a lovely bouquet of flowers and a handsome smile. My mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Richard?!” I asked. He grinned.
“Well, now this is a sight,” he said, pointedly looking me up and down. I could feel the weight of his eyes on my bare legs and had to fight a shiver.
My mind was struggling to catch up to what was in front of me, but my body knew exactly what it wanted. I fought the urge to cover my chest anyway. This is your house, remember? I told myself. You can wear what you want, and not even hot-as-sin but cute-as-fuck Richard Marino can judge you for it.
“I hope you don’t mind me dropping in,” he said teasingly, nodding to the box of chocolates and bottle of wine he held in his other arm. “My dad made it clear his preferred celebration wasn’t exactly family-friendly, and if I was going to be out of the house anyway, I felt like Chicago’s best lawyer deserved some wine and chocolate. You seem like a Passito kind of woman, or did I guess wrong?”
For a second, I just gaped at him.
It was hard to believe, after all—one of Chicago’s wealthiest bachelors was standing at my door, looking like he’d just walked off a Loro Piana runway, bearing a large bottle of Sicilian dessert wine, and looking at me with a barely concealed desire.
It seemed like he was not expecting the amount of skin I was showing, and it was now taking him a little more effort than he thought not to jump on me.
So I jumped on him instead.
All the desire I’d bottled up, all the anticipation from the constant flirting, the pull of something I wasn’t allowed to have, and the exceptional high of total victory all coalesced and rose up in me, and I said fuck it and threw caution to the wind.
I stepped into the hallway, almost pressed against him, and watched with satisfaction as his mouth formed a surprised little ‘o.’ I cupped the side of his neck to coax him down, and he followed eagerly, pressing his lips to mine with a contented sigh.
His lips were warm and tasted a little like grapes. I let my eyes fall closed as he pried my mouth open with his tongue, pressing more firmly into me and walking me back into my apartment as best he could with both hands full.
He kicked the door closed behind us, and I detached myself from the kiss just enough to pull back and look him in the eye. The hazel was almost black with desire, and he looked seconds away from eating me alive right here. I swallowed.
“I like it a little on the rough side,” I croaked. Richard’s nostrils flared, and I knew I’d just sealed my fate.
Chapter Eighteen
LAUREN
Icouldn’t say I was surprised that things moved fast after my half-challenge, half-dare, but it still felt like a dizzying frenzy.
One second, Richard was just barely far enough to keep from touching me, hands occupied and out of the equation, and the next, he had haphazardly tossed his presents onto my couch and crushed our mouths together like a starving man.
Instantly, my pussy throbbed. This wasn’t the fun-loving, bubbly side of the man I’d gotten to know—this was the predator I’d caught glimpses of and could now finally see out in the open. I felt like a prey about to be devoured.
I’d never been so aroused in my life.
“Mmf,” I grunted, lifting onto my toes to kiss back harder. I wanted to return the passion, the intensity. I knew he’d outpace me in the end, but I was going to run the race for as long as I could.
