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He stops with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. “What?”
I scratch my chin. “It’s a wonder I was able to use my vibrator successfully.”
“Are you joking?”
I shake my head, swallowing my laughter.
“You used your vibrator and I wasn’t here to see it?” He drops the sandwich and grabs my wrists, pulling me off the stool and into him. “You better be fucking joking.”
I stare at him, my eyebrows raised in challenge. I didn’t use it, but it’s so fun to see him this wound up about it.
“Liv.”
“I used it all right.”
He pulls my head toward his and crushes his lips down onto mine. As he pulls me farther into him, his growing erection hardens against my stomach. His fingers dig into me and his tongue sweeps its way through my mouth with a fevered lust. Our lips mesh in a heated battle that ignites every nerve in my body.
“I lied,” I breathe when he pulls away. “I didn’t touch it. But it was worth lying about for that.”
He narrows his eyes and curves his fingers around my neck. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I smile against his mouth. “I’m not sorry for that.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for that.” He sweeps his lips across mine. “But you should be sorry for the incredible hard-on you’ve gone and given me.”
I drop a hand to his pants and brush my fingers up his erection. I lean on tiptoes, settling my mouth next to his ear. “There’s no CCTV yet.”
He turns his face toward me and his eyes immediately darken. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
I step back from him and lock the door. I raise my eyebrows and put one hand on a hip. “I’m saying a bar was on your list, and we have one right here.”
He watches me as I approach him and pull my shirt over my head. I throw it on the stool and turn to him. I tug at his shirt and he lifts it off, dropping it on top of mine.
He stands in front of me, not touching me, his chest moving at the same rapid pace mine is.
“Are you asking me to fuck you on this bar?” he asks in a deep, ragged tone.
I step forward and hook my fingers over his belt. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
Without replying, he pulls me over to one of the booths, the one closest to the door.
I watch as he pulls down his jeans and pants, letting his cock spring free, and sits back on one of the leather chairs.
“Come here,” he says, holding his hand out. I take it and he brings me to him, rolling my jeans down my legs until I step out of them and my shoes. He pulls me on top of him and his cock rubs against my clit, making me clench. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you fuck me and show me how much you missed me?”
I gasp, but his kiss swallows it. His hands, firm on my hips, grind me against him until I can take no more of the slow heat of my body and slide him inside me. I rock against him, winding my fingers into his hair, and rest my nose alongside his.
Being connected to him as one silences all my thoughts. It eases the pain of being apart from him this weekend and sates what needed to be sated. Being this close, as close as we will ever be, eases the ache.
It means I can give him everything—everything we both need. Because this—this touch—is the one thing that makes perfect sense to us both.
This touch is the one thing that could save us from ourselves.
“My parents are in town in two days.”
I look up from the glove compartment of his car. “Say what now?”
Tyler glances at me. “They’re coming to see Tessa. They mentioned they wanted to meet you. If you’re free to do dinner.”
