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“True.” He bit her neck, a quick sharp nip, just below her ear. “I could devour you,” he said, the words husky and low. “I’m not sure I like how you make me feel.”
Her anger flared. “I’m not seducing you, Wynn. If this isn’t what you want, let’s call this quits. We already know it’s temporary.”
He stepped back, visibly disconcerted. “How did I forget you have a temper? Of course, this is what I want, you silly woman. Why else would I be trying to snag a quickie in an old, deserted warehouse?”
She pouted. “A quickie? How disappointing...”
He choked out a laugh, put a hand to his forehead and stared up into the shadowy rafters. “I never do stupid things when I’m alone.”
“Don’t blame me.” She reached out and unzipped his pants, then delved into his snug knit boxers to find the hard length of him. “At the risk of sounding shallow, I love your body. Especially this part.” When she squeezed him, he shuddered and cursed.
He pushed her hand away. “I’m on a hair trigger, Fliss. No foreplay. Not tonight.”
She caught his wrist and brought it to her mouth. Kissing the spot where his pulse pounded, she sank her teeth into the skin. “I’m not getting down on that nasty floor, Mr. Bigshot, not even for you.”
“You underestimate me, darlin’.” He scooped her up. “Put your arms around my neck.”
A draft of icy air found its way to her bare ass. Her skirt was bunched so badly the wrinkles would be horrendous. But when Wynn kissed her again, all she could think about was how badly she wanted him inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him.
The kiss went on forever. Either they had both developed patience, or neither wanted this interlude to end.
She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. “Tell me how hard you’re going to do it.”
He jerked back and stared at her. “Maybe I was going to be tender and gentle.”
Her grin widened. “In a deserted warehouse on a cold December night? I don’t think so. You’re probably going to snap like a wild animal because you want me bad.”
“Bad-ly,” he taunted.
“Whatever...” She unknotted his tie. “Too bad this isn’t a clip-on. I hope you know how to redo it.” She tugged it free of his collar and dropped it on the floor. “Oh, but you’re sophisticated now, aren’t you, Wynn Oliver? You know all those fancy-man GQ skills.”
“Brat. I paid a hundred and fifty bucks for that tie. It’s Italian silk.”
Now she started in on his shirt buttons. “What a ridiculous waste of money. Now, silk underpants, that would be another thing entirely. Think how the silk would caress your ba—”
He put his hand over her mouth. “Are we going to talk or screw?”
She cocked her head as she caressed his smooth chest. “Did you bring protection?”
“And if I said no?”
Her stomach fell. “Seriously?”
“I could pull out,” he said. “When it’s necessary.”
“You would take that risk? With one baby in your life already?” She was shocked.
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m teasing, Fliss. I have condoms. In my pocket.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good.” She felt ridiculously embarrassed, given the circumstances.
He didn’t even bother to conceal his amusement. His laughter echoed in the vaulted space. “No pregnancy scares, Fliss. I didn’t think it would be so easy to lead you down that path.”
“You’re mean.”
“You have no idea.” He bent his head and caught her earlobe between his teeth. “I’ve needed you for hours. My dick is so hard it feels like stone. I may have a permanent injury.”
She rubbed her thumbs over his cheekbones. “Poor baby. But you still haven’t told me how you’re going to do it. Tab A into slot B. Feel free to elaborate.”
