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Our gazes locked.
All I could think about was moving into his arms and tilting my head back for a kiss.
I was thinking too much. Overthinking would be my downfall.
“Come in,” I said quickly, stepping back.
He brushed against me, his leather cut grazing the front of my dress.
My nipples pebbled immediately.
Slash stared down at me. “Brooklyn?”
“Yeah?”
Before I knew it, I was sandwiched between him and the wall.
His fingers went to my chin, and he lifted my face. His hazel eyes glittered in the light, and I could feel every hard inch of him.
I moved ever so slightly, which caused him to groan and drop his head. “What the fuck are you doing to me, woman?”
“What do you mean?” I asked breathlessly.
“You smell like chocolate and almonds, and I’m trying to be patient as fuck here, but all I can think about is—”
I stood on my tippy-toes and covered his lips with mine.
His fingers tore through my loose waves of hair as he pinned our bodies together.
I wanted this.
I needed this.
I glided my hands up the back of his cut and fisted his shirt.
I wanted to feel his hot skin against mine. I wanted to feel him moving inside me.
A cell phone trumpeting jarred us both out of the moment.
“Motherfucker,” Slash seethed, his mouth still against mine.
“Ignore it. Ignore everything. Take me upstairs and—”
The phone went off again.
With a growl, Slash wrenched away from me and reached into his pocket for his cell.
I pressed a hand to my heaving chest, my heart beating out of control.
“What?” Slash snapped into the phone. “This better be a fucking emergency.” He paused. “Yeah. Okay. We’re leaving now.”
He hung up and shoved his phone into his leather cut.
“Emergency?” I asked, raking a hand through my hair.
“The Boxer equivalent to an emergency.” Slash grimaced as he adjusted himself. “Linden’s leaving the clinic early.”
“So, we’d better get the cake over there…” I sighed.
