I lean in and kiss him harder, waiting for his lips to part when I tease him with the gentle suggestion of my tongue. It works.Finally. A low sound rumbles from his chest before he deepens the kiss and draws me into the cradle of his open knees. Whatever restraint he was clinging to is gone. His kiss leaves me completely breathless.
He groans. “Elsie…”
“I thought you only wanted to be friends.”
“I’m a fuckin’ liar.” He devours me in another deep kiss. “I’ve been crazy about you since the day I first saw you.” His lips land with feverish bites down the column of my throat. “Outside the grocery store, wearing those fuckin’ knee-high socks. I wanted to get my dirty mitts under that white ruffly thing you had on.”
Sawyer’s lips never quite find their favorite place on my neck, and his hand glides down the delicate silk of my dress. He teases gooseflesh along my spine until he finds the curve of my backside with a possessive squeeze. There’s nothing else. No knickers. He palms me again, as if he’s making sure he didn’t imagine it.
He groans. “I knew you’d be fuckin’heavenunder all those clothes. And then you started talkin’ all casual about damn Joan of Arc like she was some chick you met, and I knew I needed you in my bed one day.” His breath is ragged along my jaw. “God. Not one day. Every fuckin’ day, Elsie. You hear me? That’s how much I need you.”
I get another perfect kiss until he pulls back, his hand swallowing my cheek.
“What are you hidin’ from me, Elsie? Tell me.”
I fist his shirt to keep him close, but I can’t look him in the eye. Can’t we just keep kissing? Why does he always want to talk so much?
“Nothing,” I lie.
His brow furrows, a deep crease settling in the middle.
“I want you,” I whisper. That much is the truth. “I want you to like me.” So is that.
“I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you. You’re perfect.” He isn’t kissing me anymore, but there’s something hungry in his eyes. “I want to eat you up, Elsie Hoskins.”
I laugh—it’s fun to be silly—but he doesn’t laugh with me. He doesn’t even smile. No, he’s serious.
His eyes drill into mine as his fingers skim over my dress to whisper a fleeting suggestion between my legs. “I want to.”
He can’t mean…?
“Here?”I whisper.
He nods, and his fingers snag the seams of my dress, slowly hitching the silk over my hips. Cool air snakes up my legs. His eyes never leave mine, our gazes locked together, but I’m bare from the waist down if anyone walks through that door.
“You want that?” he murmurs. “You’ve got to speak up.”
“Yes.”
He arches me over the desk in one more searing kiss before he falls to his knees. It isn’t a graceful encounter. He’s impatient. He hooks my leg over his shoulder and groans into my thigh.
“Fuck, Elsie.” He presses a kiss there. “That’s one hell of a sexy surprise.”
There’s no underwear to get in his way, and calloused fingertips glide over the bare skin of my pussy. It’s a teasing touch, surprisingly gentle but calculated. He waits until my breath catches before he torments me with the first flick of his tongue.
“That’s perfect,” I encourage him.
Half-dazed eyes stare up at me as he sucks the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth. Extra slow. He stretches out the torture deliberately. A low moan of pure pleasure escapes me before Islap a hand over my mouth to avoid attracting the attention of anyone passing the unlocked door. Sawyer’s eyes crinkle in the corners. He’s smiling down there.
Fighting to keep quiet, to find some balance, my hand scrambles on the desk, pushing a pile of invoices out of the way. My bare bottom butts painfully into the wooden edge with each desperate rock of my hips against Sawyer’s devious mouth.
“You’re incredible at this,” I sigh, my head tipping back.
My pulse stutters. A white chef’s coat is slung over the pile of boxes in the corner.
Shit.
We’re in Luke’s office.
