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“Then why haven't you kissed me yet?”
I want to stuff the words back in my mouth the moment I say them. I honestly don't know where those words came from or why the hell they sounded so petulant.
He chuckles then, all smooth and low like melted caramel. “Ah, why didn't you say anything earlier, sweetheart? If I'd known you were left wanting, I would've thrown you over my shoulder the moment I walked in.”
“You did,” I deadpan. “And then you took my shirt off and basically ran away like you were afraid of getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar.”
“See, when you say cookie jar,” he says, smoothing his hands over the curve of my hips. “I think of something else entirely. Something sweeter and far more delicious than a cookie.”
My breaths come in quicker at his insinuation and the feeling of his thumbs brushing against the crease of my thighs.
“I don't know, you haven't tasted my chocolate chip cookies yet,” I tease him.
He digs his teeth into his bottom lip and looks up at me while his fingers explore the tops of my thighs. “You're right, I haven't. But sweetheart, your pussy . . . “ He groans, closing his eyes like he's remembering the drive-in. “This pussy is the best thing I've ever tasted.”
My cheeks heat with embarrassment at his blunt words, and the warm flood of desire that washes over me only makes them burn hotter.
I shift my hips in a silent invitation for him to touch me. But his fingertips remain elusive, leaving trails of featherlight touches closer and closer to where I've started to ache.
He drops his head to the crook of my neck, breathing me in deeply as he continues tracing patterns. “Does my girl need a reminder? Is that it, Evangeline?” He leans in and runs his lips along my jawline, murmuring against my skin, “Do you need a demonstration of how much I crave you?”
God damn him though.
He knows exactly what he's doing, and if I wasn't so turned on, I might be frustrated by how quickly and easily he got me here.
“I don't think I want to be teased right now, Nova,” I breathe out.
“Are you sure, sweetheart? You make the most exquisite noises when I tease you. Like this.” He brushes his lips against the corner of my mouth at the same time he runs a finger along the center seam of the borrowed boxer briefs.
I make some noncommittal noise in the back of my throat, my hand flying to his forearm for balance. He does it again, applying a little pressure when he skates over exactly where my clit is. My mouth parts on a gasp and my hips arch toward him as sparks of pleasure prick at my consciousness.
“Exactly like that.” His voice is a low groan against my throat, lips coasting against my skin. “If I had to guess, I'd say you enjoy it when I tease you.”
“Not when we have people waiting on us.” Even as I say it, I'm not as horrified as I think I probably should be. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm inexplicably excited by the idea. I tuck that little revelation away to examine later.
“Then you better be quick, sweetheart,” he says, his mouth hovering over mine.
“What—”
He swallows my question with a kiss, his mouth soft and possessive on mine. His tongue slides along the seam of my mouth, and I open for him, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
He tastes like mint and coffee and I'm so distracted by it that I miss the moment he pulls the boxers and my panties to the side. He palms my pussy with a groan, the heel of his hand barely brushing against my clit. He trails his fingertips through my arousal, dipping inside of me enough to have me close to begging.
“More,” I moan into his mouth. I lift my leg up, resting my foot on the countertop next to his hip and wrapping my arm around his neck for balance. “I need more, Nova.”
“More of what, baby? Tell me what you need.”
I pant into his mouth, my lips already feeling puffy from his drugging kisses. “I want to come.” I slip my free hand between us and flick open the button on his pants as he continues to torture me with pleasure. I slide my hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and grasp his cock in my hand. “And I want you to come with me.”
We're a tangle of limbs, propped against a bathroom counter, and I feel so connected to him, it’s insane.
My hand slides down his entire length, and it takes me a second to comprehend just how big he is. “Oh fuck,” I curse, my core clenching at the idea of having all of him inside of me.
Not here and not today. But definitely one day soon.
“Keep doing that, baby, your pussy is squeezing my fingers.”
His words cause an almost Pavlovian response, and I clench around him again. I rock my hips against his fingers, gasping when his thumb circles my clit with the perfect amount of pressure.
