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It was fucking torturous.
Ticktockrepeated in my head over and over.
“I want you.”
Three words.
They slapped my chest so hard, I rushed up from my seat and grabbed her hand and lifted her from her chair. The closeness brought me her scent.
One that I wanted to fucking eat off her skin.
I surrounded her face with my hands, her lips breaths away from mine. Goddamn it, she felt so good.
Soft.
Beautiful.
Delicate.
I gripped her even tighter, and a feeling came over me.
That familiarity of the last time I’d held her so close.
Those stunning eyes that reminded me of a dark maple syrup.
Those pouty lips.
But there was more.
There was a hardness in my cock.
A need so deep, so strong, I pointed her face up to mine, taking in her features again to slow down the moment, to appreciate it for a few seconds more.
If she hadn’t pulled away back then, if she had only kept her same number, this would have looked so different, and so would all those years we’d spent apart.
But she was here.
Now.
And I was promising myself one thing—I wasn’t going to let her go.
As that thought simmered in my head, right before I pressed my lips to hers, I whispered, “I’m crazy about you.”
Fuck me, there was nothing like kissing Drake Madden.
Tasting her.
Having my tongue circle hers.
I aligned our bodies, eliminating even the air between us, and it filled me with an overwhelming amount of heat. While I felt a pulse inside her, my hard-on rubbed against her.
Enough so that when I pulled her face away from mine, scanning her eyes, I said, “I’m taking you home.”
“Do I need to worry about Grayson seeing us?”
“No.”
Her shudder vibrated against me, her hand clinging to mine. “Then take me home now.”
