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He wanted me.
I was wet and I told him so.
He was hard. It was impossible to miss. That bulge.
“Hi.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Can you see without your glasses?”
I wasn’t expecting the question. “Do you need me to drive anywhere?”
His lips twisted in amusement. “No.”
“Then I’m good.”
He reached up and carefully took them off, reached out and set them on the side table.
“Come here,” he murmured, patting his thigh.
“Aren’t I supposed to be naked?” I asked, referring to his quiz.
“Come here,” he whispered.
I set one knee on the couch beside his thigh and straddled him. His hands went to my hips and pulled me closer so I could feel how hard he was against my center.
“There’s my good girl.”
A curl of lust rolled through me. Fuck, why did that do something for me? His praise, his hold. Sitting in his lap? It was like coming home, this feeling. Comfortable. Easy.
“I think we need to talk,” he murmured.
I swallowed, suddenly nervous. My heart hammered and I couldn’t hold his eyes. Whenever someone said we need to talk, it was never good. “I’m sorry, I–”
“Hey,” he murmured, then tipped my chin back to his. His palm cupped my jaw. “What are you sorry for?”
“I thought you wanted to talk.”
He angled his head, studied me. “So you assumed you did something wrong?”
Exactly, but I offered him a small shrug.
“Oh, baby. No. No, you’re perfect.”
I met his gaze now, not because he was holding my head in place. His gentle words had me relaxing and I knew he felt my body ease.
“I don’t know what the hell this is between us, but I feel it,” he admitted, his hands moving from my hips to gently coast up and down my thighs. “You feel it too, or you wouldn’t be in my lap right now.”
It wasn’t worded as a question, so I didn’t answer. Except he was right. I felt it, the tingling of need. The desire to be with him. To have him look at me, just the way he was right now. It was desire, definitely, but something more. Like he… craved me.
His touch warmed my skin. Awakened me better than caffeine.
“I held your hand at the coffee shop. I wanted to sit with you and talk. Get to know you. But you ran off. You ran off again last night.”
I had. Both times.
“Whatever this is, it’s not because of any email. I wanted you before I even knew who you were. We’d be right here, right now, if you sent your email to Mallory.” His hands slid around my back, one drifted up my spine to cup the back of my neck. The other settled low to cup my ass.
“I’m a foregone conclusion?” I asked, licking my lips.
He shook his head, squeezed his fingers. “No, baby. We are.”
