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“What were you doing up?” he asked as he made quick work of the glass and grabbed a towel to mop up the water.
“I couldn’t sleep, and I was thirsty. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
His eyes flashed to mine, then back to the floor. “I heard a noise and was worried something was wrong.”
“I’m sorry.” There was something intensely intimate about being in the kitchen in a thin scrap of material in the middle of the night.
“Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to get a glass of water in the middle of the night.” He grabbed the waterlogged towels and carried them to the laundry room off the kitchen.
Before I could hop off the counter, he was striding toward me, his bare chest on display. I was helpless to move my gaze from his.
When he stopped in front of me, I was mesmerized by the large expanse of bare skin. I wanted to trace his muscles with my fingers and then my tongue.
Friends. We were friends. I’d been the one to draw that line. I couldn’t cross it now.
He raised a brow. “Are you okay?”
I licked my still-dry lips. “Of course.”
I thought he’d been talking about my emotional state, which was anything but fine. But he took one bare leg in his hands and ran his fingers over my skin, his calluses sending tingles through my body. I sucked in a breath, every nerve in my body firing.
When he moved to my other leg, my nipples strained against the lace.
This wasn’t how I felt about any of the friends I’d ever had. I wondered if he felt the same.
I snuck a glance at his face, which was drawn in concentration. He was worried about whether I’d sustained a cut, and I wanted his fingers to move up to my inner thighs and dip under the lace of my shorts to find me wet. Very. Very. Wet.
I sucked in a breath, my cheeks heating when he slowly lowered my leg and met my gaze. “You look okay.”
“Uh-huh,” I agreed breathlessly.
I was the opposite of okay. My fingers strained to examine him in the same way he’d done with me. Except I had a very different result in mind.
He seemed to read something in my gaze because he stepped into me, my legs widening to accommodate his hips. I tipped my head back to keep his gaze.
“Did you need something?”
My brain was scattered as I tried to remember why I was on the kitchen counter. “Water. I came for water.”
He tipped his head slightly. “You seem like you could use something else.”
“We’re friends,” I reminded him, but my voice was weak.
“Mmm,” he said, and my pussy clenched.
I wanted him. Not just a kiss. I wanted him inside me. His rough hands all over my body, building me up, only to make me explode like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
He’d barely touched me, and already my mind was racing.
His hand cupped my chin.
My core clenched a second time as my legs tightened around his thighs. “Sam,” was all I said before he slowly lowered his mouth to mine.
The warnings ran through my head. He was my boss. Maggie could walk in at any minute. But the consequences didn’t seem important or relevant. Not when his lips touched mine, first softly and then more insistent.
I wanted him to devour me. I hadn’t been with anyone in so long, and there’d never been a buildup like this. I wanted to wrap my legs around his hips and grind my core against his straining cock. I wanted so many things, but instead, I tangled my fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, pulling him tighter against me.
At his insistence, I opened my lips for him, letting him in. I trusted him with this. He could make me feel good, take me to heights I’d never experienced.
