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At least, no one has until now.
Not until I allowed Nick Baine to screw me senseless, apparently.
“Reckless,” I chide myself under my breath as I take my meal into the employee coat room to eat in privacy.
With the rest of Vendange’s staff out on the floor, I grab my phone out of my locker then settle in on a rickety dining room chair reject, thinking I’ll check my email and browse the Internet while I take my short break.
I see the text light blinking as I lay the phone down beside me and take my first bite of the hearty chicken stew. It’s probably Margot messaging me after I slipped away from the gallery without explanation last night. I’m debating on how honest I need to be with her as I swipe the screen lock and tap the message icon.
Been thinking all day about how good you feel.
How fucking sweet you taste when you come.
Okay. Definitely not Margot.
My stomach flips and a big grin spreads over my face. Even though Nick had asked for my number this morning, I hadn’t actually expected him to call or text me. My heart is racing as I read his sexy message again, erotic images of the two of us last night—and this morning—playing in my mind. Wet heat unfurls inside me, blooming into a deep arousal that makes me squirm and clamp my thighs together in response.
He’s away on business, thousands of miles out of the country, yet he’s thinking about me. Wanting me. I can’t even pretend I’m not flattered. Although flattered is the least of what I feel. I’m turned on as intensely as if he were right here in the break room with me, growling his hot, dirty words in my ear.
I notice the time stamp on his text is about four hours old. Fuck. Did he think I was ignoring him?
Does he think I don’t want to hear from him?
Granted, I shouldn’t want to. I should hope he’s taken my lack of response to mean I’m not interested and let the whole thing go right here and now. Before things between us get any further out of my control.
Right. As if we’re not already heading that way faster than I can hope to stop it.
Even if my panties weren’t damp from desire, I wouldn’t be able to deny the thrill that’s coursing through me at the thought of Nick sexting me from a continent away. As for him, based on what little I know so far, I don’t believe for a second that one ignored text would be enough to dissuade Nick Baine from going after something he wants.
And what he seems to want right now is me.
Another delicious flutter of interest beats through my veins. Several hours have passed since he sent his message. Given the five-hour time difference between New York and London, that means he sent it around one o’clock in the morning over there. Now it’s barely five a.m. on his end. Much too early to send a reply
.
Isn’t it?
I set down my soup and lean back in the chair to read Nick’s message again. My finger strokes the side of my phone as his seductive words lick across my senses. My body remembers everything about him too. I can feel him naked against me, our bodies slick with sweat and musky with the scent of sex as we move together in a driving rhythm. I can feel him inside me, his cock stretching me, filling me so completely it brings tears to my eyes.
And I can feel his mouth on me again too. Those skillful lips. That wicked, unrelenting tongue.
Oh, shit.
My breath is rushing out of me now in rapid pants. My heart is pounding hard, my limbs loose and heavy. My sex is soaking wet, my clit throbbing.
Impulse and sexual frustration get the best of me. Before I can convince myself it’s a terrible idea, I type out a short reply: Too bad you’re not here to finish what you’ve started.
I hit SEND, catching my lip between my teeth to stifle my grin as I picture Nick reading my text after he wakes up this morning. If I give him a case of blue balls with his coffee, it’ll serve him right.
Not even a second passes before my phone buzzes with his incoming message.
So, you are there. Thought you might be playing hard to get.
I smirk and type out my answer. After last night? Too late for that, don’t you think?
His reply comes just as quickly. Are you saying I’ve already got you where I want you, Ms. Ross?
My brows rise. Depends on where that might be, Mr. Baine.
