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“It’s not what you’re thinking,” he says gruffly. He looks over my shoulder down the street, warring with himself about something. Whatever it is, he makes a decision, brushing his body against mine, making me back up until I’m against the front door. “If I come inside, Rachel, we’re going to do more than just talk, or drink coffee, or do whatever you think it is we’re going to do in there.”
“Oh,” is all I can say. I had read the whole situation wrong for the last half an hour.
“Yeah, oh.” He brushes his nose against mine, inhaling deeply, as if he’s breathing me in. “I’ll still come in if you want me to. The choice is yours. Just know that what I’m feeling right now isn’t very gentlemanly, and I’m trying very hard to be a gentleman.”
My thoughts race in time with my heartbeat. I can hardly hear myself think over the pounding in my ears. Am I ready for this? Are we ready for this?
Then his lips graze my neck and I know I absolutely am.
“Come inside, Mitch,” I pant.
He nips at my neck, causing me to squeak as I turn, fumbling with the lock. I don’t know how we make it inside, but we do, and he’s on me the moment the door is closed. He turns the deadbolt and cages me in with his arms, my back against the door.
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “I’m sure.”
He searches my eyes for another moment before pressing his lips to mine. His touch is overpowering. Intoxicating. I can’t think and at the same time, I don’t want to. I want him to take charge and act as if he owns my body, because right now, he does.
“Bedroom,” he demands, kissing his way down my jaw and neck.
“Upstairs. First door on the left.”
He doesn’t waste time squatting and wrapping his arms behind my knees and lifting me.
My legs wrap around his waist, his hands now on my ass as he carries me up the stairs. Our lips don’t break apart once while we make our way to the bedroom. My nails dig into his shoulders, my back arching into him. I can’t get enough.
I’m not looking, but he knows exactly where to go. I try not to think about the pile of dirty clothes in the corner of the room, or the books stacked in disarray on the nightstand. I know that right now, he’s only paying attention to me.
“You’re thinking too much,” he says between kisses.
“Sorry,” I mumble, not wanting him to stop.
He drops me on my bed, standing over me like a predator about to pounce.
Shit, just like in the book he gave me. He might not be a lizard king, but he’s definitely the alpha.
I immediately get an image of Mitch with scaly skin and a tail, making me snicker.
“Something funny, Belle?”
“Belle?”
“Like Beauty and the Beast. You have your nose in a book. There’re flowers involved.”
Why does that turn me on so much?
I immediately sober at his tone. It’s so dark and authoritative. And hot as hell.
“No, not at all. I was just thinking of the change in your demeanor now that we’re here.”
He lowers himself onto me, delicately brushing my hair off of my face. “Oh, honey. You have no idea.”
His lips find mine and once again, we are locked in such a passionate kiss that I don’t even remember what we were talking about. His hands roam my body, feeling up my sides and cupping my breasts over my clothes.
Shit, what underwear am I wearing? Does my bra match? I hope I’m not wearing those granny panties I only use for that time of the month.
“Stop. Thinking.” Mitch says between kisses.
