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The kiss isn’t deep or long, just enough to make things turn to liquid, for me to want more.
He moves back and my hand curls in his shirt. When the hell did I put my hand on his chest?
I don’t remember, but I want to keep doing it. I want . . . I want to lose myself and whatever is in the air, crackling, between us, he wants it too.
Leland gives me a knowing look and asks, “Want to live on the wild side, Sadie? Come with me?”
I’m throbbing down between my legs where my clit aches for everything there in his words. This is crazy, I know it. I don’t know him. And . . . and I want this man.
“Where?”
“My hotel? Another bar? Take a walk?” This time his hand slides over mine, and he presses it against his chest.
He’s hard, warm and the beat of his heart is erratic, like mine.
It only makes me want him more.
“I want to do things to you, Sadie, that I shouldn’t do in a nice establishment like this.” His eyes are wild amber on mine. “I want to strip you naked and lick you all over. I want to fuck you with my fingers, my tongue, and my cock.”
“Leland, I—”
“We don’t have to, but I don’t think I’m reading this wrong. You look at me like I’m fuel for your flame. Let’s pretend you’re my date and get out of here and see what happens.”
He’s framed it like a question, but it isn’t. And it should be an alarm bell. It should make me want to run because of Billy and his controlling ways.
But I don’t want to run and it’s not that kind of control. He’s not wanting to lock me in a cage, he wants to fuck me and take control because control is part of him.
It’s different. I don’t know how but it is.
“A walk.”
He just smiles and settles the bill. And, oh, is he tall and broad where he should be. I’m not short, but he makes me feel tiny.
Leland downs his drink and hooks his jacket with one finger, dropping it over my shoulders.
The jacket is like being engulfed in him, and it’s erotic.
Outside, the air is cool but not cold, and as we pass the alley between the bar and the next building, I grab him and haul him in, pushing him against the wall.
“If this is a shakedown, let it be of the sexual nature.”
“Before I go anywhere with you, I need to see.”
“What?”
“This.”
I’m not thinking straight as I put my mouth on his and kiss him, hard. His lips part and he’s suddenly kissing me back. I can’t breathe or think beyond the heat that’s exploding within me.
The kiss is everything. It’s fire and heat and darkness. It’s like a promise of sexual desire and it’s erotic. He tastes of beer, and something so darkly spiced honey that I know it’s him. And he is utterly intoxicating.
There’s nothing like it. The kiss is more than erotic and sexual, it’s sex all in itself. It’s like stripping away and sliding deep into parts of me that suddenly burst into life and need to breathe. It’s a precursor and a challenge, and when my back hits the rough brick wall, I realize he’s taken control.
He has one hand at my waist and the other on my bare thigh, and he slides it up under the skirt of my dress, feathering fingers along my panties.
And then he slips a finger beneath. Sliding over my folds, finding I’m wet, slick, and as he explores my slit he starts to kiss and bite a trail on my throat from my mouth.
My hips move against his finger, and I’m shaking, moaning, needing more. I grab his hair to try and pull up his head, but he ignores me, intent on nibbling, licking, and sucking on my pulse. Those sensations shoot straight to my clit.
