I’m not so sure aboutthat. But I am sure aboutthis. Impulsively, I reach for her hand and tug her close, then with a firm hold on her, I dip her back, my face hovering inches from hers.
Her lips part in an invitation for a kiss. A hot, wet kiss that would last all night.
I shouldn’t be thinking about kissing her. I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about fucking her.
It’s five forty-five, and I’m free till my eight-thirty dinner with a social media agency. I should probably go home, review my marketing plans for Dog Tails, crunch some advertising expenditure numbers, and scroll through the socials for even more ideas from other dog daycares.
But that’s what the meeting is about, so the agency can do that.
Besides, when we leave the studio, dancing is on my mind, not dogs. On the sidewalk, under the streetlamps and the steamy summer sky, the math isn’t too hard to do. I have a window right now, and there’s only one place I want to be. “Invite me over, Chloe.”
She grabs the collar of my shirt. “Come over, Sam Silversmith.”
I say yes in a heartbeat, since it’s not dating. It’s horizontal dancing.
26
WHEN VENUS RISES
CHLOE
As I’m driving home—speeding really like a bad, bad girl powered by lust rather than common sense—a stray thought lands in my head. I can’t keep it to myself for some reason. I blurt out, “Do you not want me to see your home?”
Sawyer shoots me a confused look. “Why would you say that?”
I grip the wheel tighter as I turn onto Jollyville Road, one street away from mine. “We’re going to my home. I don’t know. Does that mean you don’t want me to see yours?”
And if there’s some reason he doesn’t want me at his place, is that the universe’s way of sayingslow down, you horndog?
Because…didn’t we agree last time we’re a bad idea? That this thing between us is a mistake? But here we are, hurtling toward premeditated sex. Maybe I need a reason to stop. If he doesn’t want me to see his house, would I stop then?
Sawyer sets a hand on my thigh, stroking it through the softfabric of my long blue dress. This time I wore his favorite color deliberately. “Chloe, you can see my home anytime,” he says. “Yours is closer though, and I really need to bury my face between your thighs as soon as possible.”
Well, then.
I guess the universe just gave my inner horndog anall systems go.
I tap the gas a little harder, flying past The Horny House toward mine. Which should bear a similar name. The Sexy Shack, maybe.
A minute or so later, I’m fumbling at the keypad of my door while Sawyer kisses the back of my neck. The fucker. He knows that spot turns me to putty in his arms. Once the door is open, I thank past me for letting Captain out before I left for the dance studio because nothing is stopping us now.
My dog barks a happy hello as I kick off my heels and Sawyer toes off his shoes.
“Hey, buddy,” I say to my fur boy, but there’s no time for a proper greeting since Sawyer tosses me over his shoulder once again. “You’re addicted to carrying me.”
“Gotta give my woman what she wants,” he says.
My woman.Does he even realize he’s said that? I don’t want to read anything into it though. Into the words we say in the heat of the moment. It’s just another thing Sawyer does that turns me on.
He strides to the bedroom, drops me on the king-size bed—since why sleep on anything but a big-ass bed with the softest blankets ever on it?—then climbs onto it.
He prowls over me. I’m his prey, and I shudder from head totoe as his deep brown eyes turn carnal. They lock with mine, and he sets his hands on my calves, then slides them to my knees, pushing up the soft blue material of my dress as he goes.
I prop myself on my elbows, watching his every move. A pulse beats through my body. He’s close, so close to where I want him.
He shoves the fabric to my waist. “You’re so fucking hard to resist,” he mutters, poised on all fours above me.
“You’ve done a good job though. You’ve been cold.” Well, till I discovered him onstage.
