He looks at me in confusion. “Ask you what?”
“What I need. You’re a fixer, right? Isn’t that what fixers do?” My years of binge-watchingScandalcome into play with that one.
“What do you need, Riley?”
“One night. To get it out of our systems. One night when we don’t think about the consequences or the complications. Just one night.”
His gaze softens. Oh no, no, no. No pitying me. “Riles.”
Fuck,the way he whispers my name will do me in every time.
“Stop looking at me like a wounded animal. Give me what I want or go home.”
“I can’t give you more than one night,” he says.
“I know.” I trace my fingers through his thick, charcoal and iron beard, wanting it everywhere, just like in my dreams.
“Nobody can know,” he whispers, leaning into my hand, closing his pretty eyes, his lashes brushing his cheeks.
“I know.”
And with the rain falling harder, a deluge opening in the sky, Dom steps inside, walking me in until my back is against the wall. He slams the door shut with the back of his foot and stares directly into my soul. “Just once.”
I nod. “Just once,” I echo, and just like that, his mouth is on mine in a searing kiss.
Holy shit. Dominic Diaz, my grumpy, sexy as sin neighbor, is kissing me. If I stop spiraling over the fact that he’s kissing me and actually pay attention to what’s happening, I would feel the way his full lips are on mine as his mustache tickles the bridge of my nose. I would take notice of his hand tugging gently at my wet hair at the nape of my neck. I would notice his thick leg pressed against my sex and the way he’s pulling moan after moan from me as if it were his mission.
He bites my lower lip, sending me into a different kind of spiral, snapping me from my thoughts and tethering me to this moment, as a kiss should. I let myself believe this is actually happening and drag my hands through his thick hair. His mouth roams from my lips to my ear, leaving searing hot spots as he drags his tongue through.
“I’ve been dreaming about this exact moment,” he whispers, dragging his hand from my neck to my wet hair. “Touching you, kissing you like this.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I practically moan, rolling my hips against his thick thigh.
There’s too much fabric between us. I barely had time to pull a pair of panties on before he got here, and he’s just wearing briefs. It’s still too much. I want more.
“Because we shouldn’t.”
I link my fingers behind his neck, pulling myself higher to reach his ear, and bite his earlobe. He groans, answering all the unspoken questions I have. He does want this.
Me.
He wants me.
“How is it that we shouldn’t when just a kiss feels like this, huh?”
He slams his hand against the wall, ever so close to my face, bringing his other hand to my neck, grabbing it wholly in his calloused hand, keeping my head against the wall. Four fingers rest against my neck, surely feeling my pulse beating faster with every second that passes. His entire body is against me, and with his thumb, he tilts my head back, peering down at me with pure smoke and lust behind his eyes. All I want to do is get lost in them as he fucks me into oblivion.
His hand doesn’t move. He’s fighting it. I can sense it, feel it,see it. “This—” He takes a second, clearing his throat and regaining the control I don’t want him to get back. I want him unhinged. “This was not just a kiss.”
“No?” I question, not knowing what he means but wanting nothing more thanto find out.
“No, Riley, it wasn’t.” He drops his mouth back to mine, slow this time, like he’s choosing it instead of losing it with me. His lips press firmly against mine, deliberate strokes, one after the other, his tongue asking for permission. I allow him entrance.
My pulse races harder as I grind my pussy against his thigh, searching for friction, but it’s not enough. Nothing is enough. I want him buried deep within me.
He pulls back; it’s only by an inch, his breath still tangled with mine.
“You feel that?” he murmurs, voice rough but steady now. “That’s why it wasn’t just a kiss.”
