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“Are you seeing anyone?” The intent in his eyes is clear, and I know I didn’t miss the spark of attraction coming back to life between us during dinner.
“I hardly think that’s any of your business,” I say coldly, refusing to walk into this with him.
He takes another step forward, and I don’t move, his gaze flicking over my face, lingering for a little too long on my lips. “It’s just a question.”
“Yes, well,” I give him a sugary sweet look that is full of warning. “I choose not to answer it.”
“Should I take that as a no?” he asks, his tone so silky, and now he is closer to me.
The sneak!
My heart beats wildly against my chest, my body’s reaction to him feeling so natural and yet so impossible to tamp down. My brain tells me to move, to put an end to this before it even begins, but the part of me that is still so wildly attracted to him whispers sinfully to wait and see.
“You should take that as a mind-your-own-fucking-business.”
He gives that half smile again that seems to be always reserved for me, the one that makes me feel like I can’t draw in enough oxygen. He moves a little closer still, smoothly inserting himself into my personal space as if he has every right to be there and it strikes me that I am wading into very very dangerous waters.
I try to gather myself, to take control of the situation, unsuccessfully. “If you think I’m going to—”
His mouth swoops in to swallow my words, and his touch makes my skin ache, those firm lips against mine moving in a rhythm that is so natural. He presses his larger body against mine, pinning me to the sink as his hands ghost over me, leaving a trail of fire and sensation in their wake.
It was like this the last time as well.
All he has to do is touch me, and my body can’t help but respond.
He moves his hands over my waist, his thumbs brushing the side of breasts till he reaches my neck. One hand clasps the back of my neck in a proprietary hold as he melds his mouth to mine, tongue, teeth, lips.
His other hand goes to my hip as he presses me against him.
I don’t want to be affected but the way his hands graze my skin on top of my clothing, the rough way in which he handles me, it makes me almost whimper, and I part my lips at his silent command.
His tongue is soft as it explores my mouth, tangling with mine, inviting me to play. His hand tightens on my nape as a moan escapes my lips.
I can feel the roughness of his jaw as it grazes my softer skin. My hands lift to curl inside his shirt as he lights a fire under the passion that I buried inside me for so long. The scent of his aftershave, a woodsy scent that he never changed, makes my knees weak and I can feel the way his hand squeezes my ass as if it has every right to.
When he sucks on my tongue, I feel myself growing wetter.
However, common sense is like a bucket of cold water when I feel his cock harden. I bite down on his lower lip enough for it to bleed and he immediately steps back, cursing.
Wiping my mouth with a trembling hand, I stare at him.
He glares at me. “Jesus, you could have just pushed me away.”
I try to steady my heartbeat. “W-well, that worked too, didn’t it? Don’t put your mouth on me again.”
Those sharp blue eyes turn to slits. “You liked it.”
I give him a wry look. “I think skunks are pretty to look at. Doesn’t mean I’m going to cuddle up with one.”
He scowled. “Well, you didn’t have to bite me.”
“You kissed me.”
“You kissed me back,” he retorts.
I shrug my shoulders, knowing I will be taking a cold shower tonight. “Only to be polite. Would you rather I squirted soap gel in your eyes?”
He shakes his head and touches his lower lip with this finger. “Still, fuck.”
