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“No . . .” he whispers and grips his large hands on my hips, stopping my movements.

I snap and glare at him. “You have two options here: you fuck me or you leave. You decide.”

What the hell did I just say?

“You’ll hate me tomorrow if I do this while you’re in this . . . state,” he says and looks into my eyes.

“I already hate you,” I say, and he flinches from my words. “Sort of,” I add more softly than I mean to.

He loosens his grip on my hips, allowing me to move. “Can we at least talk about this all first?”

“No, stop being such a Debbie Downer.” I groan and rub myself against his leg.

“We can’t do this . . . not like this.”

Since when does he have morals? “I know you want to, Hardin, I can feel how hard you are for me,” I say in his ear.

I can’t believe the dirty words falling from my drunken lips, but Hardin’s mouth is a deep pink, and his eyes are wide, almost black.

“Come on, Hardin, don’t you want to bend me over this desk? Or the bed? The sink? So many possibilities . . .” I whisper up close and gently bite his earlobe.

“Fuck . . . Okay. Fuck it,” he says and wraps his hands in my hair, pulling my mouth to his.

The moment Hardin’s lips touch mine, my body ignites. I moan into his mouth and am rewarded with an equally feverish sound from Hardin. My fingers thread through his hair and tug harder, not able to control myself or my need for him. I know he’s holding back and it’s driving me crazy. My hands move from his hair down to the hem of his black T-shirt, gripping the fabric and pulling it up and over his head. The second the kiss breaks, Hardin leans back slightly.

“Tessa . . .” he pleads.

“Hardin,” I counter and run my fingertips over his ink. I’ve missed the way his hard muscles strain against his skin, the way the intricate black ink swirls and decorates his perfect body.

“I can’t take advantage of you,” he says but then moans as I swipe my tongue over his bottom lip.

I let out a derisive little chuckle. “Just stop talking.”

As my hand reaches down to palm him through his jeans, I know that he can’t resist me, which pleases me more than it should. I never thought I would be in a situation with Hardin where I’d have all the control; it’s amusing, really, the way we’ve switched roles.

He’s so hard and so turned on, I climb off of him and reach for his zipper.

Chapter seventeen

HARDIN

My mind’s racing and I know how wrong this is, but I can’t help it. I want her, need her. Long for her. I have to have her—and she gave me an edict to either leave or fuck her, so there is no way I’m leaving her if those are my options. The words that came out of her mouth sounded so unnatural, so strange . . .

But so hot.

Her small hands reach down to unbutton and unzip my jeans. When my belt hits my ankles, I shake my head. I’m not thinking clearly; I’m not thinking rationally. I’m wasted, completely gone for this usually sweet, now wild woman that I love more than I can stand.

“Wait . . .” I say again, not really wanting her to stop, but the good part of me wants to at least put up a little fight to ease the guilt it feels.

“No . . . no waiting. I’ve waited enough.” Her voice is soft and teasing as she pulls my boxers down and grips me in her hand.

“Fuck, Tessa . . .”

“That’s the idea. Fuck. Tessa.”

I can’t stop her. Not even if I wanted to. She needs this, needs me. And drunk or not, I am selfish enough to take it if this is the only way I can have her wanting me.

She drops to her knees in front of me and takes me into her mouth. When I look down at her, she looks up at me, batting her lashes. Fuck, she looks like an angel and the devil at once, so sweet and so goddamn dirty as she works her tongue around me, swirling and flicking.

She pauses with my cock next to her face and asks with a smirk, “You like me like that?”

I almost come from her words. I nod, unable to speak, as she swallows me again, hollows her cheeks, and sucks harder, taking more of me into her sweet mouth. I don’t want her to stop, but I need to touch her. To feel her. “Stop,” I beg and gently push her back by her shoulder. She shakes her head and tortures me by moving her head up and down at a dangerous speed. “Tessa . . . please,” I moan, but I feel her laugh, a deep vibration that rumbles through me until, luckily, she stops just before I’m about to come down her throat.

She smiles and wipes her now swollen lips with the back of her hand. “You just taste so good.”

“Fuck, where did this dirty mouth of yours come from?” I ask her as she gets up off of her knees.

“I don’t know . . . I always think these things. I just never have the balls to say them,” she says and moves toward the bed.

I almost laugh from her saying “balls.” It’s so unlike her, but tonight she’s in charge and she knows it. I can tell she’s enjoying this, having me at her complete and utter mercy.

This dress she has on is enough to break any man. The way the fabric clings to her every curve, every dip in her flawless skin, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. That is, until she pulls it over her head, tossing it at me playfully. I can literally feel my eyes straining to pop out of my head when I take her body in. The white lace of her bra is barely holding her full breasts inside, and her matching panties are bunched up on one side, revealing the soft skin between her hip and pubic bones. She loves to be kissed there, even though I know she’s embarrassed by the thin, almost transparent white lines on her skin. I have no idea why; she is flawless to me, marks and all.

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