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“It’s a long story.”
“I like stories.” She’s relaxed and looking much better than before.
While she finishes her salmon and green beans—her fries remain untouched on her plate—I tell her about Brent and Gus, including the disaster at ACE. It’s only when I’m wrapping things up that I realize maybe I said too much. Leighton is a client after all.
“Shit, I want you to know, none of this will impact the service you receive.”
“Tom, I never even thought about that. You’ve been nothing but great, and I feel terrible for your friend Gus. Have they had any luck in finding Brent or the money?”
“I don’t think so. It’s too soon to tell.” No longer wanting to dwell on things I can’t change, I look down at her plate then at her. “You haven’t tried the fries.”
“Do I have to?” She grimaces and I still can’t believe she doesn’t like them.
“Yes. They’re most probably cold but they’re good.”
“Fine.” She grumbles and pops a fry into her mouth.
Silence fills the space as she slowly chews. “They are tasty, but I still don’t get the big fuss about them.” She pushes her plate away, clearly signaling she isn’t having any more fries.
But I can’t complain, since everything else on her plate is gone. I get up to clear the table, and she grabs my hand before I can take her plate. “Tom.” Her thumb caresses the top of my hand. “Thank you for the meal. It was lovely.”
Before I can say thank you, she places my plate back onto the table and wraps a cool hand around my neck. She angles her head upward and her mouth covers mine.
Holy hell. Yes.
16
TOM
Tongue hot and salty, Leighton deepens the kiss, and I grab on to her, not wanting her to get any ideas and flee. This is a damn good kiss, and I intend to make it last.
I’m unsure when or even how it happened, but somewhere along the way, I started to want Leighton. Started to think of her as more than just a client or a road trip companion.
The list of reasons why we shouldn’t do this is long and there will be a reckoning, of this I have no doubt. I will have to answer to my best friend for what I hope we’re about to do—cross a line we can’t undo or come back from. But August will come later, and facing his wrath is a risk I’m willing to take. I’ll deal with it then. Because right now, all I can think of, see, and need is Leighton.
And it isn’t lost on me that she isn’t fighting this attraction between us. Hell no. She was the one to make the first move.
Her perpetual shields are nowhere in sight, and her surrender—not to me, but to her desire—is a fucking beautiful thing.
She presses her body into me while breaking our kiss. “I’m sorry…we shouldn’t—”
Before she can go too far down the long list of why this shouldn’t happen, I stand and say, “Leighton, yes. We should. Now tell me what you want.”
She tilts her head to one side and presses her tits into my chest, and I worry she’s going to pull the plug on us. Instead she smiles and says, “Kiss me.”
With those two little words, there’s no turning back.
Before my lips can devour hers, like before, she’s the one to make the first move. Her mouth crashes onto mine. She kisses with abandon, ripping a hungry growl from deep within me. The kiss is good. Oh, so good. As sweet and sinful as I remember her tasting, but nowhere near satisfying.
I kiss the hell out of her, already knowing this night won’t quench my thirst for her. Mouths attached, hands clawing at each other, I carry her into her bedroom and plant her feet firmly onto the carpet at the end of the bed.
“Are you wet for me, Leighton?” My few words drag out what should be a criminal whimper from her now parted lips.
Her eyes are dark and wild as she nods vigorously, making sure I understand what she can’t seem to find the words to say.
“Let me see.” I lift her dress up and over her head. “Did you know I’ve thought about just how pink and pretty your pussy must be.”
She’s what fantasies are made of.
