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As much as I want to look at her, talk to her—I can’t. That wouldn’t help the current problem aching in my basketball shorts.
She’s suddenly at my side, catching me off guard. “Is this how it’s going to be between us? It’s awkward as fuck. If you don’t cut this shit, Marnix is going to suspect something,” she hisses. Always so forward with what she wants to say.
Her closeness makes my blood sing. Her sassy mouth would be put to a better use screaming out my name instead of chastising me for being weird around her. I take another drink of my beer, casually setting it down before I finally turn toward her, gripping the counter on either side of her, boxing her in.
“You upset, wild girl? Not getting the attention you crave?” The words slip from my mouth before I can stop them.
Her eyes narrow. “Fuck you.”
My heart races, trying to decide which direction to go. Apparently, it chooses the dirty route. “You have. Wanna go another round?”
“I already told you no. We can’t.” She grits her teeth, pulling my attention to her mouth. I can't help but think about how it felt, fighting for power against mine in the office.
“Then why are you so worried about me?”
“I’m not,” she snaps. “You’re just acting mopey and weird. I don’t think that’s going to help anything.”
She’s right. I hide my anxiety from Nix like it’s an Olympic sport. I should win a gold medal. He’s seen it come out a few times before, but has no idea how bad it really is. If I don’t get back to my usual joking, upbeat self, he’s going to know something is up.
I move closer, pressing my body against hers. I know she can feel how hard I am, but her expression doesn’t change. Seems we have something in common—we’re both good at hiding how we feel.
I lift my right hand, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. If she wanted to run, she had her chance, but she stayed put with her green eyes drilling into mine.
Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this. Anyone could walk in right now. Nix could catch us red-handed. But I honestly can’t help myself. This girl is so fucking hypnotizing. What I wouldn’t give to bend her over the counter and destroy her tight pussy so she’ll never forget me.
My fingers slide down her neck, over her collarbone. Her breath hitches, goosebumps erupting over her body. As much as she tries to hide it, I’m affecting her too.
“Cohutta,” she whispers, her breath hitting my lips. It takes everything in me not to crash my mouth down on hers. Hearing her say my name makes me melt every time.
I move my hand down the middle of her cleavage over her stomach, stopping at the waistband of her shorts.
“Someone could see,” she rasps.
“I don’t fucking care.” Lies. I do care, but I can’t stop myself. She makes me impulsive, unable to control my actions.
Moving my lips to her ear, my cheek rubs against hers. “You were mine first.” Even though I did technically have her first, I can’t help the guilty feeling deep inside, knowing she’s my best friend’s wife. A wife he doesn’t want.
My fingers slip under the waistband of her shorts, lingering on the top of the lacy material of her panties. Tara’s body relaxes back against the counter, her chest rapidly moving up and down as she pants for my touch.
“You’re married to my best friend, but you can’t help but want me. Your body is aching for me to touch you, to make you come all over my fingers right now. Is that what you want? You want to come all over my fingers while screaming for me? I bet you’re fucking soaked for me,” I taunt her.
Why am I like this? Why can’t I just leave her alone?
I inch my fingers lower, wanting to see if I’m right. It only makes it worse that I know what her sweet pussy tastes like. I’m itching to bury my face between her thighs right now and make her moan my name.
She grinds her hips toward me, begging for me to touch her. The gasp that leaves her as the tips of my fingers hit her clit has me getting even harder. Just as I suspected, she’s wet as hell for me. The feel of her smooth pussy and the sweet sounds coming from her cause a groan to rip from my throat. This girl is everything I’ve ever wanted.
Why do I have to want her?
A sound from the hall pulls us out of our trance. Tara grips my wrist, ripping my hand away. “This was a mistake. We can’t do this.” Her eyes harden as she pushes me back. I could stay put, keep her boxed in, but I let her go.
She moves past me, but I grab hold of her wrist. “You can deny this all you want. But your body says otherwise, wild girl.”
Turning, she glares at me. “Yeah?” She cocks her head to the side. Pulling her hand away from me, she reaches out to grab my erection. Her fingers wrap around my dick through the silky material of my shorts, making it twitch in her palm. “So does yours. That looks painful—might want to take care of that,” she snarks, giving me a tight squeeze before storming off upstairs toward her room.
Why was that so hot?
This girl is going to get me in trouble. No doubt about it.
