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Her hands slid up behind his neck, her nails scraping lightly at his skin as though wanting to mark him. She wanted to leave a mark on him. Mark him the way he seemed to be marking her very soul. Mitchell growled before his mouth slammed down on hers.
Julie gave back as much as she took, using her own tongue to tease and torture. She had no idea how long they stood there, all pretense of dancing abandoned except for the subtle grind of hips. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but try to bring him ever closer, only to realize that there was no way to get close enough. Not while they were still wearing clothes.
“Get a room,” screeched a girl next to them, elbowing Julie roughly. They pulled back, breathing harshly as they stared at each other.
“God,” he whispered.
He moved before she could try to lighten the moment, tugging her off the dance floor with less finesse than when they’d entered the crowd.
Mitchell stopped by their table, pausing only long enough to throw down a wad of bills and shove her purse at her.
“We just got here!” she said in his ear, yelling to be heard over the noise. She wasn’t ready to be alone with him. Not yet.
He ignored her, moving steadily toward the exit.
“Where are we going?” she asked, feeling oddly terrified. The controlled, self-aware Mitchell she could handle. But this wild, pagan version? She had no defenses against this one. Didn’t know how to guard herself.
She dug her heels into the floor like a belligerent child until he finally spun around.
“Wait, can we talk about this?” she yelled.
In answer, he cupped a hand around the back of her neck, and stamped a kiss on her lips, hard. He pulled back to search her eyes. “Tell me you want me.”
She licked her lips to buy time, trying to read him.
“Tell me,” he said again. His voice was harsh.
“I want you,” she said softly. Don’t break my heart.
His eyes blazed hot and fierce. “I’m taking you home.”
* * *
He was on her as soon as the door to her apartment closed behind them.
For a second it reminded her of that first time after that run in Central Park, but this was different.
They knew each other now. Knew just where to stroke, when to tease. What made the other person gasp and moan.
His fingers pinched her nipples just the way that she liked, and she knew that he had her number. Then her teeth sank into his shoulder and he swore. She had his number too.
“This skirt is too short.” His hands slid up the back of her thighs, shoving the skirt up around her waist as his fingers toyed with the lacy edge of her thong. “I like it.”
He shoved her against the door, his hands cupping
her ass as they kissed, tongues tangling as though trying to one-up each other. He moved his hands only long enough to tug at the string of her halter top, growling as he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. In less than thirty seconds, her shirt and skirt were on the floor at her ankles. She stood before him clad only in ridiculously high heels and a tiny blue thong.
Even through her surge of want, she couldn’t help the flash of satisfaction at the stunned lust on his face as he took her in. Bet your movie-night girls don’t look like this.
Mitchell ran a reverent finger from hip bone to hip bone, tracing the low-cut top of her panties. “You’re beautiful.”
Julie’s breath hitched. Beautiful. Not hot.
The words tried to wriggle into her heart, but she pushed them out. She couldn’t afford to make room for the pain. Instead she settled for raw, animal passion. She launched herself at him, and just like that, she was once again pinned against the door, their mouths fused so tightly they shared the same breath. It was like they’d never left the club dance floor. His tongue moved in her mouth, moving in perfect sync with his hips as he ground against her. She locked her ankles behind his waist, matching him thrust for thrust even as she tore at his shirt, desperate to feel skin on skin.
Her fingers fumbled with each and every button until she was able to shove his shirt off his shoulders. “That shirt’s all wrong for you, you know,” she said, running her tongue over his nipple.
He grunted. “I bought it based on the pictures of your various gigolos.”
