“You’re beautiful,” Gabriel said, and his voice was so sincere, so honest, that my brain stopped spiraling.
“I—what?”
“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, his hands coming up to cup my face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Cate.”
Oh.
Oh my God.
Gabriel Lyon just said I’m beautiful.
Gabriel Lyon just said “fucking.”
I didn’t know he said “fucking.”
That’s—that’s really hot.
He kissed me again, and this time there was nothing slow or gentle about it.
It was hungry. Desperate. Like he’d been holding back and couldn’t anymore. His hands moved to my back, finding the clasp of my bra, and he paused again.
“Yes,” I gasped before he could ask. “Yes. Please, yes.”
He unhooked it with one hand—one hand, how is that even possible?—and slid the straps down my arms.
And then I was topless.
In Gabriel Lyon’s bedroom.
While he looked at me like I was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen.
This is surreal.
This is absolutely surreal.
I’m standing topless in front of my boss and he’s looking at me like—like...
“Fuck,” he breathed, and then his mouth was on my breast, his tongue circling my nipple, and I stopped thinking entirely.
My hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, and I gasped his name. “Gabriel—oh God—Gabriel,”
His teeth grazed my nipple, gentle but firm, and I actually moaned.
Out loud. A full, embarrassing, pornographic moan that echoed in the quiet room.
Oh my God.
Did I just—I definitely just!
But Gabriel made a sound—low and rough and approving—and his hand came up to cup my other breast, thumb stroking over the nipple.
“You sound so good,” he murmured against my skin. “I want to hear you make that sound again.”
Oh my God.
He wants me to—he wants to hear me!
His mouth moved to my other breast, and his hand slid down my stomach, fingers tracing the waistband of my jeans.
