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I motion to her face. “When was the last time he knocked you around?”
Anger flares in her, and I can tell she is furious with me for making her talk about this sore subject.
I give zero fucks. Her memory of this guy brought me out of my lusty haze, so I feel no qualms about tracking his loser ass down and putting him in the ground.
As soon as her anger kindles, it quells just as quickly. She lifts her chin and looks me in the eye as if she has never cried a day in her life. “If the children are gone, then I should lock up. It was nice mee… Um, thanks for the…” She stammers a few more times, much to my amusement, and then presses the button for the elevator. “Have a good night.”
She turns her back to me as she waits for the elevator, as if that will keep us apart.
It takes two strides for me to close the gap between us and one long stretch to turn off the light.
And just like that, my pussycat and I are bathed in darkness.
4
Should I grind my erection into her round backside as I twist her head to plunder her mouth once more? Probably not. But damnit, I want to feel that curvy shape so I can accurately beat off to it tonight if she doesn’t let me take her home. Judging by her skittish nature, I’m guessing she’s not going to be up for anything too wild.
“Come home with me,” I whisper between kisses, my large hand cupping her throat so I can feel her jumping pulse in the palm of my hand.
“I don’t know you!” Jessica protests, but her hand migrates down to her side so she can drag her nails up my thigh.
My cock jerks at the slightest hint of encouragement, trying desperately to land itself in her hand.
“Is this the sort of thing that happens in all those books you read?” I tease as I kiss her harder just to feel her go weak in the knees.
“I don’t read those kinds of books here. I’m at work!”
“But you do read them.”
Her silence is enough confirmation for me. My woman wants to be taken, seduced, and satisfied in the filthiest of ways.
“I’m guessing you won’t let me come to your house, either.” I nibble her ear, holding her to me while she visibly trembles.
Jessica shakes her head, but then she turns in my grip so she can kiss me without such uncomfortable contortions, her stomach pressed tight to mine. It’s a sure sign that the attraction I feel radiating off her isn’t just in my head.
The elevator door opens and shuts without us stepping inside. We ignore the entire world as she deepens the kiss, her fingers tangling in my dark hair.
It’s my turn to whimper helplessly. I’m so glad none of my men are seeing me moan like a little bitch at her touch.
Jessica wants me. When she lets me hitch her leg over my thigh so I can grind myself into her center, we both shiver with a mixture of boldness and insecurity.
“You’re not real,” she tells me. “This isn’t happening, so I can just…” My pussycat bites down on my lower lip possessively, pulling me closer so she can rub herself against me, scratching that itch only I can soothe. “It’s not happening. I’m imagining you.”
“Am I a good dream?” I ask, nibbling a line down the side of her neck. “Am I a dirty dream?”
“My filthiest,” she agrees. “You’re a mirage, so this doesn’t count.”
I chuckle at the leaps her mind is making just for me. “If I’m a mirage, then I’m sure you won’t mind taking me home with you. I’m dying to see if the rest of your nightwear is as sexy as this getup.” I flick at the costume’s zipper at her collar.
She snickers into my mouth. The sensation of her kiss mixed with her bubbly giggle is intoxicating. I’m never funny. No one laughs at my jokes because I don’t make any. But for her, I’ll be a damn comedian, auditioning for the chance to make her smile.
I reach around her and press the button for the elevator. This time, the door slides open immediately, so I can back her into the box without breaking our kiss. “You live in the south side?” I ask her, and then suck on her bottom lip as we rise to the main floor.
“Uh-huh. Apartment on Tanner and Fourteen.” She kisses me two more times, then presses her forehead to mine so we can catch our breath as the door opens for us. “No one can know,” she whispers. “My husband is… I filed for divorce, but even though I gave him everything, he’s still dragging his feet and won’t sign the papers.”
I don’t want to talk about her loser of an ex, but if I must… “Does he live nearby? Because I’m about to tear this crazy pajama off you on his front lawn to show him what a real man does when he has a bombshell in his arms.”
That same blush I bring about heats her cheeks again, so I know I said something right. It’s just us in the library, thankfully. She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who would tolerate making out in front of minors. I’m glad my men wasted no time getting the teens out of here.
