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Whiskey
He burned for me? What the hell did that mean? Before I could think further, Smoke began to pull my body towards his, but at that exact moment, the door to our side opened, and we both took a step apart.
Paul stood there and appeared to be surprised as he looked between us. “Sorry, I didn’t know you two were out here.”
“That’s okay, Lillian was a bit stressed after the test house, so I brought her out here to calm down.”
Paul eyed me carefully, and I wondered if I looked like I had just been kissed. Suddenly what was left of the adrenaline vanished, and I felt deflated, confused, and embarrassed.
“If you two will excuse me, I should return to the office.” Without another word, I rushed through the door beside Paul. I took the safety walkway outlined in a double yellow line along the edge of the building and detoured to the nearest bathroom, where I locked myself into a stall.
Inside, I put my hands over my face. Oh, my God! I just kissed my boss — again — at work! But not just that, I had wanted him to keep kissing me, and I was about to do as he said, and I was going to let myself go. I was going to let myself do what I wanted.
Why? The word exploded into my mind. I had never before let myself go, not how he was asking. I had never dared to make the first move or tell someone what I wanted. Would I have been able to do it with Smoke? Or would I have chickened out like I always did?
I wasn’t sure what the answer to that was, but for some reason, this felt different. I almost felt like I could say anything to Smoke, and he wouldn’t judge me—at least, I didn’t think he would. How could I want to tell a stranger when I couldn’t say it to the man that I had loved and married? Was it because Smoke was still a stranger?
If we got to know each other, would I revert to keeping my mouth shut and being nervous to tell him what I wanted? Or was I feeling this way because Smoke brought something out in me that I hadn’t even known existed?
What exactly did Smoke want with me? Was he just looking for a one-night stand? Had he slept with all the women in the building? Is that why Lydia had been warning me off?
I didn’t have the answers to those questions, but I knew one thing. I knew that I wanted to kiss Smoke again. I wanted to kiss him and tell him that he did make me burn for him. I wanted to allow him to quench the burning deep inside of me. Could he? Wade could hardly stimulate me enough to make me climax, could Smoke?
Why was I even wondering these things? I threw my hands up in the air and used the restroom. As I washed my hands, I stared at myself in the mirror. My lips were still slightly swollen from my kiss with Smoke. I touched my bottom lip, closing my eyes as I remembered the feel of his tongue on mine. My girlie parts clenched as I recalled the feeling of his hands on my back, as I remembered how hard his chest was against mine. I let my head fall back slightly as I imagined his mouth moving down my neck, his beard tickling over my soft skin.
I felt my breath hitch as I envisioned him lifting me by the buttocks and putting me on the desk, spreading my legs wide so he could press his erection against me. My groin muscles clenched again, and I gasped.
When I opened my eyes, I found them slightly dazed, and my pupils more prominent than usual. I tried to shake the images away, grabbed a paper towel, and dried my hands on my way to the door. I had never had such an intense vision before. So intense that my body was reacting as if it were real. That thought scared me.
In the hallway, I retreated to my desk. In the distance, I heard people talking and phones ringing. Someone laughed, another person sneezed, and I tried to pick out something that would tell me where Smoke was, but nothing caught my attention.
Slightly disappointed, I stopped by my desk to find a file I had meant to put on Lydia’s desk. I carried it in there and set it on the desk, letting my gaze drift around the credenza behind her desk. There were several pictures, and one caught my attention. I shifted around the furniture and picked up the frame, studying the image of Lydia and Zack at a much younger age.
“Lydia had just graduated from college.” Smoke’s deep voice startled me, and I spun toward him. The images from the bathroom returned to me, and I felt my pulse begin to race for the third time that day. “Whiskey? Are you okay?”
I set the photo back on the credenza and walked around the desk toward the door.
“Wait! Lilly, give me a second.” He said as I reached the door, but I wasn’t going to leave. I took hold of the knob, peered outside to see no one was around, and closed the door gently. I took a second to put my palm against it as I tried to slow my racing heart.
I shifted toward Smoke, and his shoulders adjusted back slightly as if he were surprised by my action. I took that as a good sign and approached him. Another step, and then another, and then one final one, and I could reach out and run my palm over the coarse hair of his beard along his jaw line. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I wasn’t sure I could speak them out loud. I swallowed, licked my lips, and then began to talk.
“I want to feel your beard along my neck.” I stared at him for two seconds, wondering if I had imagined saying those words out loud. My blood pulsed so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear anything at the moment. Would he laugh? Tell me to open the door?
My stomach flipped, and I was about to step away when he snaked an arm around my waist and leaned forward to place a kiss on my jawline, then another. My eyes closed at the sensual touch as he brushed his beard along the hollow of my throat and then kissed it again with several small kisses. Zack shocked me by opening his mouth wider and sucking the skin of my throat into his mouth. A moan drifted from my lips as my body fell against his.
“Tell me you feel the burn, Whiskey. Tell me you do.” He murmured into my ear.
“Yes,” I breathed as he went back to kissing my neck, and I dropped my head back on my shoulders as I had in the bathroom when he moved to the other side.
“Tell me, Whiskey. Say the words.”
“You make me burn for you.”
“Fuck, yes!” He growled into my ear, cupped the back of my head, and his mouth crashed over mine. Our lips opened, and our tongues met in the middle. His hands shifted over my body, and he walked me backward until I was against the wall next to the door. He pressed his body against mine, and I knew he was as turned on as I was.
He cupped one of my breasts and squeezed for a moment before unbuttoning my blouse. Somewhere in my sex-starved mind, I knew that doing this in my boss’s office wasn’t a good idea, but there was no way I could stop. Not right now.
When my shirt was open enough, his hand was inside, peeling my bra from my breast. He kissed a path down from my neck to my chest and then nuzzled my breast with his beard before latching onto it with his mouth. I held his head there as he sucked my nipple and flicked his tongue over it. A strangled sound left my throat.
