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Whiskey stays where he is, on the other side of the fort I’ve created. Pushing the pillows away, I climb over to his side so I am straddling his lap and looking down at him. His chest is on display, and I can’t help the urge to reach out and touch him, his skin is smooth under my hands—he’s all man. You know, to make the kiss as good as it can be, and for no other reason, so I tell myself. Then I run my hands up to his neck leaning down.
I begin by tracing soft kissed along his jawline, continuing until I reach his lips. His hand comes up behind me and touches the small of my back as I stay on him, then I reach up, threading my fingers this time through his hair and pulling it, so when I kiss him, he kisses me back.
Fire. That’s all I feel between my legs when we kiss.
Butterflies. They take flight in my belly with a force so fierce they scare me.
But I don’t stop.
No, I want this month off, and he isn’t bad to kiss. No, I lied, he’s magnificent to kiss.
Whiskey hardly touches me, aside from his hand on my back, but that’s enough to send me into overdrive. Soon I’m pushing my pelvis down farther, until I can feel him between my legs. He’s hard for me, and ready. If only there weren’t a sheet and our clothes between us.
Pulling back, I realize his lips are even redder this time, and he’s smiling.
“Now that’s the kiss.” He smirks. “I’ll have the contract amended in the morning,” he says as I climb off of him. When I do, the blanket comes with me by accident, and in its wake is a naked Whiskey, hard dick and all.
He eyes it then back to me. “If you want to bargain some more...” He winks.
I throw a pillow at him and turn around, forcing myself to sleep and trying to forget all about him.
But that kiss haunts me instead.
CHAPTER 20
WHISKEY
I’m not going to be able to get any sleep for a good year. Well, now eleven months. I swear she wakes the dead when she snores.
Looking over at her, my gaze lands on her lips. Those lips are the best fucking lips I have ever had the privilege of touching.
And I can’t help but wonder, can I kiss her again?
She was meant to be a means to an end, but I’m almost ready to bargain all eleven months away to have some more of her. It’s probably best to avoid her as much as possible until the wedding, afraid of what I might say or do in the meantime is hard.
When she had those legs wrapped around my waist and my cock between her thighs, it was hard to not move that sheet and slide right in. I know what to expect. And I want more of it. Always have. I want her, plain and simple.
“Why are you smirking?” Barry asks, as I’m being fitted for my wedding suit.
“She kissed me last night.” I smile telling him.
“Oh fuck, no, Whiskey. What are you thinking?” He shakes his head. “You don’t fall for the woman, let her fall for you. It’s the way you’ve planned the game.” The tailor looks up to me, most likely confused why I’m being fitted for my own wedding.
“She likes to play. She’s fun to play with.”
“What if she beats you at your own game?” he asks.
“She won’t.”
“You can’t be too sure of that. She was raised with sharks, remember that.”
My smile falls. “I remember exactly who she comes from,” I snap back at him.
Barry stands, pushing me away as the tailor starts his suit measurements.
“Okay, just so you know, she isn’t worth it, not at all,” he says, and a part of me knows and agrees with everything he’s saying. But there’s one part that isn’t sure. She’s different from those who she was raised by. I see it, especially when she’s around them.
“But her friend, Emma, on the other hand, is for sure worth it.” He chuckles.
