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I clasp his face in my hands, bringing it close to mine, staring at him for a moment. His classically handsome features. The lush mouth and sharp cheekbones. The square jaw shadowed with the faintest stubble that prickles beneath my palms. He leans into me, his lips barely brushing mine and my entire body tingles at that initial contact.
Oh, I could drown in him. Does he realize this? Does he understand the power he has over me?
“I don’t want to fuck you in a bathroom stall,” he murmurs against my mouth, just before he tugs on my lower lip with his teeth. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Kiss me first,” I demand, sliding my hands into his hair. “Please.”
He does as I request, deepening the kiss within seconds of our mouths making contact. Tongues tangling, hands wandering, low moans sounding from the both of us. Someone enters the bathroom but I don’t even care. I’m too caught up in the taste of my husband. The feel of him. His hard body pressed to mine. His growing erection nudging against my stomach. He wants me. It’s as if he always wants me.
I feel the same exact way.
The moment we hear another person walk into the bathroom and enter a stall, Perry goes into action. Grabbing my hand, we leave our stall, hurriedly sneaking out of the bathroom and exiting the restaurant without a backward glance. He approaches the valet, handing him his ticket and the guy takes off in search of my husband’s car.
We wait on the sidewalk, the wind even chillier than before and Perry slings his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close to him. I wrap my arm around his front, absorbing his warmth, tucking my head into his chest, savoring the feel of him.
“You’re cold.” He kisses the top of my head. “Should’ve worn a coat.”
“And ruin the effect of my dress? Totally worth it to freeze a little.” I glance up at him, smiling.
He presses his mouth to my forehead and I close my eyes for a second, savoring this moment. The sweetness of it. How it feels so… right between us.
I don’t want to forget this.
Ever.
Chapter Sixteen
Perry
My demanding wiferequests I take us back to the same parking garage where we had sex in the front seat of the Chevelle. The last night that things felt normal between us. Before McAssdick had to come along and ruin everything.
The garage is mostly empty and I drive until we’re on the very top level, the wind knocking against the car once I park it, which says a lot since this thing is a steel beast. In tandem we undo our seat belts and I glance over at Charlotte to find her leaning against the seat, her eyes closed, her head tilted back, exposing the elegant line of her throat. Large, thin gold hoops hang from her ears, the only jewelry she has on besides the diamond on her finger.
I think about other jewels I could give her. More diamonds? Maybe she likes other stones. Emeralds? Sapphires? Rubies? Whatever she wants, I’d make it happen.
“You’re staring at me,” she says, her eyes still closed.
“How do you know?” I reach for her, tugging on the cloth belt at the front of her dress, untying it slowly.
“I can feel your eyes on me.” She smiles. “It’s a fake belt.”
“Damn.” I finish untying it anyway. “How do I get you out of this dress?”
“You want to strip me? I thought you could just flip my skirt up and…”
I pause, waiting for her to continue, but she doesn’t. “And…?”
Her eyes crack open. “You know.”
Leaning in until my face is in hers, I ask, “You know what, exactly? I want to hear you say it, Charlotte. Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she whispers, those big blue eyes meeting mine.
“What do you want me to do to you?” I let my hand drift down the middle of her, breezing right between her legs. There and gone in seconds, until my fingers are flirting with the hem of her dress, brushing the tops of her bare thighs.
“Touch me.”
My fingers pause in their exploration. “Where?”
