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“Easy.” I reached out and stopped her from falling over.
As I sat with my hands on her hips, keeping her upright, she now stood between my legs, balancing herself with one hand on my chest. She chewed her lip, and her eyes went hooded as her chest heaved. Each breath accentuated the soft curve of her breasts as they strained against her tight camisole. I felt my pulse shoot through the roof. I could pull her into my lap right now and taste her. She stood swaying in front of me, as if she was waiting for me to do just that.
I cleared my throat. “I have to leave for a work trip tomorrow. I’d like you to come with me, so I can keep an eye on you.”
She nodded, and her gaze was back on my lips. “Ok.” She whispered out.
Fuck.
Shewaschecking me out. I wasn’t sure earlier, but now I was confident that she was waiting for me to kiss her. I gritted my teeth. Too bad I wouldn’t. It was my job to protect her, and kissing her while she was drunk was not high up on the list of ways to do that. Or kissing her ever, for that matter.
Her eyes scanned my face, and she stepped forward. I could bury my face in her tits from where she stood. She was that close. I tried to steady my breathing, but she was such a fucking temptation. I realized my thumbs had been kneading her hips as I thought about her, because her eyes suddenly fluttered shut and she let out the softest whimper.
FUCK!
Oh, how I could make that moan even louder. I could have her screaming and moaning and chanting my name. The sound of that soft little moan made me feral.
“I think it’s time for bed.” I grunted out.
Her eyes flicked open, and she breathed rapidly at me. Suddenly I registered that it almost sounded like an invitation.
“For us to go to bed… in our own rooms.” I clarified gently.
“Right.” She whispered, but she still stood there in front of me, and I still sat there, gripping her hips. She blushed and dropped her eyes suddenly. “Want to know something embarrassing?” She questioned softly.
My pulse was through the roof. “Yes.” I wanted to know every thought that popped into that pretty little head of hers.
Her eyes flicked back up, and she hesitated before she spoke. “Um…” She laughed again, “I used to say that you were my first kiss.”
I racked my brain for a moment in confusion.
She searched my face. “You know, because of the whole pool thing.”
Pool thing? What was the pool thing?
“When you saved me from drowning, and you gave me CPR.” She smiled so big her eyes closed. “Isn’t that funny?”
Something in me liked that she considered me her first kiss. Now I definitely knew she was thinking about me like that, and clearly had been for quite some time, seeing as I pulled her out of the pool when she was maybe sixteen or seventeen, I couldn't recall exactly. I needed to put an end to this right now before I did something stupid. I pulled a chair up with my foot, and gently pushed her down towards it, but she was locking her knees.
“Sit.” I instructed gently but firmly.
She stood defiantly pushing against my grip; She was breathing heavily. I could have easily made her sit, but part of me didn’t want to push her away. She continued, “I’ve always wondered what a real kiss with you would feel like.” She slid her arms up around my neck and into my hair, and she shifted forward.
Oh, for Christ’s sake, I did not have this kind of strength. The feeling of her hands raking and pulling through my hair with desire nearly broke me. “Emma.” I said it softly, as I tried to let her down, easily, gently.
“I think you feel it too, Mason.” Her lips hovered over mine. I could practically taste her sweetness in the air. She was so close.
“I don’t feel that way about you, Emma.” It was a lie, but it had to be said, it was for the best.
Her body language shifted, and she looked hurt. She let me gently guide her into the chair across from me. When I released her hips down onto the chair, I felt an immediate longing to touch her again. To feel her warmth against me.
I changed the subject, “I’ll need you to stay in the hotel when we go on this trip, ok?”
“Yeah sure whatever.” She was leaning on the table, tracing the wood grain with her finger now. She wouldn’t look at me.
“It’s really important. We’ll be in Iran, and–”
“Iran?” She perked up way too much at that.
