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She just had to be very careful to ensure the only slipping going on was on his side.
Eight
Later that night, Gage picked up a bottle of cachaça, some limes and a bag of brown sugar, just in case Cass didn’t have any on hand. Caipirinhas were a far sight more tolerable than margaritas, and women usually loved the way he made them. Plus the drink was about 85 percent alcohol, which gave a nice buzz but, because cachaça was distilled from sugarcane, the next morning didn’t come with a busting headache.
On his way to Cass’s house, Gage dropped Arwen off at a doggie daycare. With that heartbreaking task out of the way, he drove to Cass’s house. She was worth a furious vizsla and the probability of an additional fee upon pickup after Arwen drove everyone at the daycare to the brink of insanity.
Cass opened the door, barefoot and clad in shorts that showed a mile of leg, thank the good Lord, and a fitted T-shirt that most women couldn’t have done justice. On Cass, it was legendary. She’d twisted her hair up in a messy waterfall of a hairdo that was somehow more suggestive than the chopsticks.
His mouth went dry.
“Hey,” she said, opening the door wider, which lifted the hem of her T-shirt just a flash, revealing a slice of bare stomach. “Hope casual is okay. I thought low-key might help us get some work accomplished tonight.”
Yeah, no. She needed a better mirror if she thought that what she had on was supposed to provide some kind of Gage repellant. Her toes were hot pink, for crying out loud, which drew his attention to her bare feet again and again.
“Oh, good,” he said when he could speak. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. Whew.”
He mimed wiping his brow in relief and she shot him a sunny smile that heightened the flame inside his gut.
She motioned him inside and called over her shoulder. “Should we start on the paperwork first, then? Maybe later we can have a drink and relax.”
Seriously?
“That was sarcasm,” he said bluntly as he blew over the threshold, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.
She whirled, clearly startled by the sudden noise, and smacked into his chest. Right where he wanted her. He set down his bag of goodies—caipirinhas had totally lost his interest.
“If you wanted me to keep my hands off you,” he growled, hauling her into his arms. “A better plan would have been to move to Timbuktu.”
He hustled her backward, against the wall, and shoved a thigh between her legs. Hard and high. She gasped, a throaty sound that crawled inside him and lit the fuse of a row of fireworks residing in his groin, threatening to explode without notice.
“In case you’re not clear on this,” he continued, nipping at her ear as he leaned in. The full body contact sang through him. “I want you. Now. Not later.”
Her nipples pebbled against his chest as he rolled his hips to fit more snuggly against hers. Those shorts were made of much thinner fabric than he’d guessed and her heat engulfed his steel-hard lower half. Lust licked through his blood like a wildfire.
He needed her hot and pliant immediately, before he lost it. There was no way she would get the opportunity to leave him hanging like she had last night. Oh, he’d enjoyed every second of making her come against that post, moonlight spilling over her gorgeous body, while they were both fully dressed. It had ranked as one of the hottest experiences of his life. But tonight he deserved a turn, too.
He ached to reacquaint himself with her body, the way she tasted, the way she would respond to his touch. That T-shirt, soft under his fingers, promised delights underneath it and he was game to discover them.
No one was around and they had all night. He planned to make the most of it.
They gazed at each other and the ocean of desire in her eyes twisted through him. She was inside him already and he welcomed her with a sense of awe. How had she made him feel this way before they’d scarcely gotten started?
“I want you,” he repeated hoarsely, but the phrase scarcely encompassed the sheer need he was trying to describe, as if he depended on her for his next breath. “And not because you’re wearing a sexy outfit. Because you have a brain. Because you challenge me. Because I like being around you. Because—”
“If you’re going to kiss me, shut up and do it.”
“That might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”
Because it suited him, he tilted her head back and took her mouth with his, open and wet, pleasing them both with the force of his tongue. She tasted of fire and woman and he wanted more. So he went deeper, coaxing her to meet him with increased passion. No holding back. No ice goddess, not tonight.
