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I angled my neck toward hers but still didn’t kiss her, purposely teasing her.
She leaned in to take my mouth, her fingers clawing at my chest.
I refused to give her my lips. “Tell me you want me.”
“You know I want you.”
“Say it.” I would punish her for teasing me, punish her for making me want her so much that I marched over here like a possessive jackass.
Her hands clutched my shoulders. “I want you, Cato.”
“No more other men. Only me.” I’d never made that request of another woman. They seemed to drop everything in their lives to focus solely on me. But with this woman, she had more suitors lined up every time I turned my back. She was the kind of woman who didn’t wait for a man—and that made her incredibly sexy.
The arousal in her eyes died away at my demand. “You can’t be serious.”
“Am I ever not serious?” My life was centered around work and booze. I had a piss-poor sense of humor.
“I just told you I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Neither am I. But I want you when I want you. I’m not getting in the back of the line every time I want a turn.” I pressed my forehead to hers as I held her against the table. My fingers explored her hips underneath her top, feeling that silky soft skin I wanted to kiss everywhere.
“You don’t seem like a monogamist.”
“Because I’m not.” I rubbed my nose against hers then stared at her lips. “But I can make an exception—for a short period of time.”
A grin stretched across her face, a knowing look in her eyes accompanying it.
“What?”
She shook her head slightly. “I was right.”
“About what?”
“I told you I could handle my own. I told you I was the kind of lover a man could barely handle on his own. I told you I didn’t share—a man would never want to share me.”
It had seemed like an empty threat at the time, but her words had haunted me ever since she’d spoken them. Every time I was with a woman, I wondered if Siena would have been better. I wondered if I’d made a mistake bringing her home with the expectation of a threeway. Now that I’d had her, I realized her threat had been real. She was a special kind of woman—one I’d never met before. “Congratulations. You’re the first person to prove me wrong.”
Her hands started below my pecs and slowly snaked upward. “I like the taste of victory.”
“I like the taste of you.” My fingers played with the top of her jeans, and I discreetly unfastened the top button. My eyes moved to those plump lips, but I still didn’t take them into my grasp. The idea of being with a single woman didn’t sound like a sacrifice. It sounded like an opportunity I’d never explored before. The repetitiveness of my life had become mundane, and ever since meeting Siena, everything seemed to be more interesting.
“So, I don’t date other men. That means you don’t date other women.”
“I never dated to begin with.”
“You know what I mean.” Her hands trailed to my jeans, and she slowly unfastened them. The button popped open then she worked the zipper. Slowly, she dragged it down, along my hard outline which was noticeable in my boxers. Whether it was intentional or accidental, her eyes flicked down and she licked her lips, like seeing my dick was exactly what she’d been looking forward to the most. “Just you and me for a few weeks. When my project is complete, so are we.” She pushed my jeans past my hips so they slid to the floor. She was getting me naked, and she was also establishing a deadline without hesitation. A long-term commitment really was the last thing she wanted from me.
Made me want her more.
She hooked her fingers into my boxers and slowly dragged them down, pulling them over my thickness and then down my thighs. Every inch was revealed slowly, showing the deep vein in my shaft, along with the thickness of my crown. Like a woman who could appreciate the fine things in life, she looked at my cock as if it was a work of art. “I don’t say this often…but you have a beautiful dick.” She looked down at it while her fingers still gripped the fabric of my boxers. Her fingers twisted it in place, her tongue swiping across her bottom lip in the sexiest way.
My hand moved to her neck, and I slowly guided her to her knees on the tile. I’d gotten a good blow job in the back seat of my car or in a bathroom stall, but I’d never gotten head quite so spectacular as I did from her. She had an enthusiasm that couldn’t be replicated or faked. She was a woman who got off on enjoying me, on pleasing me.
