Page 55 of That Rush

“Fair.”

She curls her fingers around my collar and pulls me back to her mouth.

Paige tastes faintly of chocolate and red wine. I kiss along her jaw and down her neck. Her head falls back against the sofa, and her breath breaks when I drag my mouth over the pulse beneath her ear.

“There,” she whispers.

I do it again.

Her knee slides between mine. My hand comes to rest on her bare thigh, and the muscle jumps beneath my palm.

“All theory?” I ask against her skin.

“Shut up.”

“That sounded less confident.”

She turns her face and bites my lower lip. “Still talking.”

I take her mouth again. My hand slides higher up her thigh as she grips my shoulders, shifting beneath my weight.

“Sit down,” she says.

I lean back. “Bossy.”

“Research.”

I sit, and Paige climbs onto my lap.

Fuck.

Her knees settle on either side of my hips. My hands settle on her hips as she looks down at me, pleased with herself despite the flush spreading over her throat.

“This seems efficient,” she says.

“Does it?”

“You’re very tall.”

“I noticed.”

She silences anything else I might say with another kiss.

The angle puts her soft, hot body directly against my cock. She feels exactly how hard I am, and the small catch in her breath tells me she wasn’t prepared for it.

Then she rolls her hips.

My fingers dig into her waist. “Paige.”

“What?”

“You know what.”

Her eyes stay on mine as she does it again. “Maybe I want you to show me.”

I slide one hand into her hair, stilling her movements. “You like provoking me.”

“So far.”