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Chapter 14
Abbi
Wemakeitasfar as an Uber before my hands are back on Dean.
I’m already tingling, and he’s helping that feeling grow steadily. We fall into the vehicle and seatbelts somehow get clicked into place. Dean’s strong hand at the small of my back brings my body back against his. My hands fall to his waist, and I grip his torso, his muscles hard and lean beneath my touch. My lips part beneath his, inviting him in. It’s like my entire body comes alive for the first time.
God, is this really happening?
He’s delicious. Our tongues tangle, and the way he caresses mine hints at all the other skills it might have, and my internal muscles clench, delighted at the prospect.
I let out a whimper when I think about his tongue running over my other lips, sliding between them and exploring. One of his hands is buried in my hair, the other is just north of my knee, branding me with its heat.
While I’m lost in that fantasy, his mouth leaves mine, and he attacks my neck, pressing a trail of hot kisses from just beneath one ear, across my jaw to the other ear, reaching the finishing line of that sensitive little spot that has a gush of wetness between my legs.
He swirls his tongue over my skin, and his hand inches up my leg until I’m a purring, wet mess. At this rate, I’ll be leaving a damp spot on the Uber seat. He slides his hand up the outside of my thigh, and my dress rides up a little, allowing him to reach right up to where his fingers should come into contact with lace or cotton.
But I left in such a rush, I never made it to the underwear drawer.
“Fuck, you’re bare under here?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I seek out his lips hungrily like a woman starved. He devours me while his hand splays over my hip under the cover of my dress, but he doesn’t try to take things any further. We are, after all, in the back of someone’s car. A few moments later, we arrive at Dean’s building, and he pulls me from the car after thanking the driver.
I doubt we’ll be getting a five-star rating.
Dean takes my hand and wordlessly pulls me past the doorman and into the elevator in the beautiful marble foyer. He swipes a card, and we’re suddenly being whisked up, higher and higher. There’s not even time to say anything before the elevator doors open, and we’re suddenly in the entryway of a beautiful apartment. It’s dimly lit, and I take a few steps forward, immediately captivated by the view. A sheet of glass in place of a wall looks out over the city skyline. Lights seem to stretch for miles. I glance to the left, where a living room is open to a kitchen with marble countertops and matte-black steel fittings and appliances. It looks like it’s out of the pages of a sleek interior design magazine.
I can see a black spiral staircase and know there’s an upstairs, but I’m too blown away with the room I’m in to go exploring just yet. Decorated in a simple and minimalist style—presumably to make the most of the natural light that would flood the room in the daytime, a couple of tan leather couches beckon me to sit and resume the heavy petting session with Dean.
The man himself comes up behind me, right at that moment, and puts his hands on my hips, drawing me back against his hard body, burying his face against the overheated skin of my neck.
“God, you smell so good,” he growls, his hands to roving over my belly and pressing me back at the same time, shifting his hips forward so that I can feel the full length of his erection. I lift my arms overhead, wrapping them around the back of his neck, arching my back, and grinding my ass against his cock. I thrill at the sharp intake of breath right next to my ear.
“Come and sit down,” he whispers in my ear and leads me over to one of the low sofas. I drop my handbag on the floor nearby and take him in. He oozes raw masculinity in his smart yet casual get-up, and the fact that he hadn’t shaved only aids in his heartthrob cause. The dark stubble he sports has my fingers itching to stroke it and have those sexy bristles rake against my skin.
We fall onto the sofa, and a little laugh escapes me before Dean’s lips descend once again. He pulls me across him so that I’m straddling his lap, my black silk dress riding up, only affording me an inch or two of cover. I want him to push my dress up. Find my wetness. Fuck me senseless.
But before I can do anything about it, he cups both sides of my face and kisses me hard. “Where have you been all my life?” he growls.
Waiting for you.
“You know I want more than this, right?” He looks at me with wide eyes, stilling both of us. I nod, desperate for his hands to start moving again.
“Because I know it’s fast, but this feels right. In the last couple of weeks, it feels like I’ve found… something. I don’t want to go any further if you’re not exactly on the same page as me.”
I really appreciate his sentiment, and ordinarily I’d be giving full marks to any man who slows things down, takes his time with his partner, and shares his feelings, but getting all chatty in this moment is the opposite of what my body is screaming for.
“I’m exactly where I want to be, Dean, right here with you. All the other details can be worked out. Later. I promise.” I’m feeling things, lots of things, that are a bit scary to contemplate so soon after meeting someone.But this is Dean.
I smile reassuringly at him, one hundred percent confident in my convictions.
And that’s all he needed from me before he traces the pad of his finger across my lower lip. All sensation narrows down to this one touch, yet as he presses a little harder and the tip is dampened by the inside of my mouth, I know this is going to be a dirty, wild ride. Holding his gaze and closing my lips around his finger, I shift forward, the thin silk of my dress riding completely up and pulling tight around my hips. No more being subtle or holding back. I want this man inside me right now. I’ve felt the size of what he’s packing up against my ass, and I can’t wait to see it.
But Dean won’t be rushed. He pulls his thumb free of my lips and traces it over my chin. I tilt my head back and swallow as he pulls it slowly down the front of my throat. The contact as he drops lower and reaches my cleavage has me arching toward him, and he growls low in the back of his throat. My breasts ache for his touch, and desire pools inside me.
He keeps that single digit moving, though, and slowly ghosts it over my stomach until he reaches the bunched-up fabric across my upper thighs.
