Including how hard he was.
He was huge. Thick and long, pressed against my belly, proof of exactly how much he wanted me. Liquid heat flooded between my thighs as I imagined what it would feel like to have him inside me, stretching me, filling me completely.
The kiss went deeper, hotter, more desperate. His hand in my hair tightened, angling my head exactly where he wanted it. His other hand slid from my back to my hip, gripping me through my jeans in a way that made me arch into him.
This wasn’t a sweet first kiss. This was need and want and tension finally exploding. This was his tongue tangling with mine, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip. This was raw, carnal, filthy—everything I’d imagined and more. This was him taking what he wanted, what we both needed, with no apologies and no restraint.
And I loved every second of it.
His mouth left mine to blaze a trail down my jaw, my neck, and I gasped when his teeth grazed my pulse point. When histongue soothed the spot before his beard scrapped across it again.
“Crew,” I breathed, my head falling back against the wall. My hips rolled against him, seeking friction, seeking relief from the ache building inside me.
He made another one of those feral sounds and lifted one of my legs, wrapping it around his waist. I whimpered into his mouth as the thick length of him pressed right where I needed it most. He ground his body against mine and I felt another wave of moisture soak through my panties.
His mouth found mine again, the kiss turning almost frantic. One of his hands slid up my side, his thumb brushing dangerously close to my breast, and I arched into the touch, desperate for more. Desperate for him to cup me, to squeeze, to pinch my nipples through my bra until I cried out.
How had this escalated so fast? One minute I was tripping, and now my leg was wrapped around him, his hands were everywhere, and I was making sounds I’d never made in my life. Desperate, needy sounds. Whimpers and moans that I couldn’t control and that betrayed exactly how much I wanted this, wanted him.
And I didn’t care. I didn’t care that we were in the middle of my sawmill where anyone could walk in. All I cared about was the way his body felt pressed against mine and the taste of him on my tongue. All I wanted was him, finally inside me.
“God, Charlotte,” he groaned against my mouth, his hips pressing harder against mine. The ridge of his cock ground against my clit through our jeans, and I nearly came from that alone, the friction perfect and maddening and not nearly enough.
The sound of heavy footsteps—work boots on concrete—barely registered before a voice called out. “Hey, boss, did you approve the—holy shit!”
We sprang apart. Or tried to. Since my leg was wrapped around Crew’s waist and his hand was gripping my thigh, it took a second for us to untangle. My body protested the loss, aching and empty and desperate for him to come back, to finish what we’d started.
Marcus stood at the entrance to the specialty section, his eyes wide as saucers, his face bright red. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—I’ll just—” He backed away quickly, nearly tripping over his own feet. “I didn’t see anything!”
He disappeared, and suddenly Crew was lowering me to my feet, stepping back, putting distance between us. Cold air rushed in where his heat had been, making me shiver. I wanted to reach for him and pull him back.
But the look on his face stopped me.
Regret.
I’d seen it before and knew the emotion well.
“I, uh.” I put my trembling hand to my mouth. That was all I could say. I rushed out the door as fast as I could, needing to be alone.
That should never have happened.
I made it through the rest of the afternoon on autopilot. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Crew’s face—the way he’d looked at me right before he kissed me, like he was done fighting whatever this was between us. His hands had gripped me, possessive and sure. But more than that, I’d remember the way his cock had felt pressed against me, thick and hard, and the way my body had responded, going wet and needy, ready to take him right there against the wall.
By quitting time, I still hadn’t seen him. Dale mentioned that Crew had gone to help with a delivery at one of the other sites. Convenient timing.
I drove home in a daze, my body still humming with unfulfilled need, my mind replaying that kiss on an endless loop.Once inside my small house, I dropped my bag, kicked off my boots, and stood in the middle of my living room trying to decide what to do next.
Call Evie? That was probably a terrible idea. She and Stone were supposed to be on their belated honeymoon—a long weekend at some fancy resort. The last thing they needed was me interrupting with my drama.
But God, I needed to talk to someone who could help me process what had happened. Who better than my bestie.
Against my better judgment, I pulled out my phone and called.
Evie answered on the second ring. “Hey! What’s up?”
“Are you... are you busy? I can call back later if—”
“Charlotte.” Evie’s voice sharpened with concern. “What’s wrong? You sound weird.”
