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“Really?”

“Yeah.” He leans in to press his lips to mine.

It’s a soft, slow kiss.

It isn’t enough.

But then nothing is enough.

He pulls back with a needy sigh. “Hold on.” He leans in for another kiss. This time, his teeth scrape against my bottom lip. His tongue dances with mine. His groans vibrate down my throat.

The kiss is a promise.

I want you. I need you. I’m going to make you come until you pass out.

He pushes himself from his seat and disappears around the corner.

I take a minute to check my makeup with my cell phone camera. Winged eyeliner, under eye concealer, bronzer, brows, berry lipstick. I look awake and badass and over the fucking moon.

But I don’t need the camera to tell me that.

Ryan slides back into the booth. His leg nudges mine. His fingers brush my thigh.

They go higher, higher, higher.

Then they slide under my dress.

I press my forehead to his chin. “Fuck, Ryan.”

“Yeah?” He drags his fingers higher.

Higher.

Higher.

His fingertips skim my panties. The soft fabric brushes against my sex. It’s too much friction. And it’s not enough.

I need his hands on me. “Please.”

 

; “Here?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll get arrested.” He rubs me over my panties.

“I don’t care.” My breath hitches in my throat.

“At the shop.”

“At the shop?”

“Yeah.” His index finger finds my clit. He rubs harder, pressing cotton into my tender flesh. “I’m gonna wait until everyone’s gone, then I’m gonna set you on the counter, tear off these panties, and lick you until you’re screaming my name.”

“Ryan—”

“Yeah, baby?”

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