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She’s doing exactly what I didn’t want, examining my motives.
“Shut up, Ensley.”
“So why do you go out with them at all, then?” she asks. “Why not focus on your work and leave us evil vixens alone?”
I refuse to look at her. I’m done with this conversation. I’m having trouble managing this talk with her body so close to mine.
“I want to know, Drew. Why do you mess with us at all if we’re so dangerous to your status quo?”
Thunder peals, so close that it rattles the spare parts on the counter. But Ensley doesn’t yelp this time. She doesn’t move at all.
She wants to know what draws me to women. What makes them worth it.
I’ll show her.
I drag her body against mine for a kiss she will not easily forget.
Chapter 5
ENSLEY
I’m falling for the third time tonight.
First, I faked falling to spill wine on Felicia.
Then I very nearly fell off the loading dock.
And now, it’s happening. I’m weightless, flying off a cloud.
Drew Daniels is kissing me. His mouth is frenzied, hands on my back. His body is hard against mine, his chest a strong place to cling to. Both arms hold me so tightly that I trust he’ll never let go. I will stay here as long as I want.
He tastes of bourbon and darkness and need. I can’t pull away, don’t want to pull away. My arms encircle his neck, matching his lips, his tongue. Our heartbeats slam against each other.
He shifts my body so that my legs straddle his waist. I can feel him, even through all the heavy fabric, hard against me. His hands move to my hips, grinding me down on him. I want to get rid of these stupid coveralls, to be skin to skin. I want every inch of him.
I kiss him back, reveling in his closeness. I want to learn him, his back, his shoulders. I can touch it all. For this moment, he’s mine.
We break the kiss, and his mouth moves to my jaw and my throat.
The coveralls really do cover it all, but he pulls back, fingers on the zipper, yanking it down.
The shoulders fall down my arms, and his lips are hot on my skin. I arch to him, hanging on to his neck as he works his way down.
He shifts our position, laying me back on the cot, and the cool air hits my belly as the oversize uniform opens wide. His hair tickles my neck as he works his way along my chest, pressing his face into the hollow below my ribs.
I’m on fire, hands on his head, his shoulders, his back. He’s a monster, all muscle and sinew. I feel a release of tension and realize he’s unhooked the bra. He tosses it away, and now his mouth is on a breast, drawing in the nipple.
Am I doing this? Is it real? He sucks hard, and I cry out. My God, it is totally real. How far will it go? Do I want it?
I do. How can I not, this long-held dream finally realized?
He’s told me no second dates. So this will be it. A onetime tryst. A wedding fling.
I’ll take it. I wrap my legs around his waist, encouraging the grind of that hot erection against the mass of fabric of the coveralls. Damn it all, I want them gone!
But Drew is content to linger, touching, kissing. He takes his time, occasionally a low rumble of a growl escaping as he moves into fresh territory. He returns to my mouth, his kiss deep and penetrating. His hand slips along my body—collarbone, breast, belly—then slides inside the coveralls where the zipper ends, finding my damp panties.
He caresses the outside, making me writhe beneath him. My breathing is labored, hot around his mouth. I’m like a clock wound too tightly, ready to spring.
