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“You, Amelia. I choose you.”
Chapter Eight
The look on his face as he tells me he chooses me sends an electric spark down my spine to throb in my core. Warm hands cup my face, and he closes the distance between us until his mouth covers mine. His tongue teases my lips, and I open, moaning as the taste of him invades my senses. My breasts crush against his chest, creating an ache where my nipples rub against the fabric of my dress.
His hands move to grip the ends of my hair, applying pressure until my head tilts against the wall. His mouth rips from mine to trace along my jaw, teeth and tongue teasing the sensitive skin behind my earlobe. Tunneling his arms beneath me, he arches me farther into him.
“God,” I whimper as the buttons on his shirt rub along the valley between my breasts.
Every cell in my body is clamoring for Garrett’s attention, begging for my hands to map all the sexy muscles I’ve gotten glimpses of over the last week. The need is so acute, I can’t shove it down under the “he’s my friend” umbrella anymore. I’m done fighting the desire he creates in my body with just a look.
I shift my hands under his suit jacket, pushing it off his shoulders until he shrugs it off. Hot open-mouthed kisses down my neck short circuit my brain while his hands tangle with mine, pulling me off task before I get any further. His lips keep moving down my collarbone, tongue tracing my cleavage. I tug at my hands, desperate to touch him, but he doesn’t relent.
“Not yet,” he rumbles. Reaching up, sure fingers scrape the silk of my dress across my nipple, exposing me to his gaze. “Fuck.”
He shifts on his feet, bringing one finger up to trace lightly around the stiff peak. The slow drag against my sensitive skin shouldn’t have the ability to make me weak in the knees.
But so many shouldn’ts have become hell, yes, pleases tonight. No. It’s been coming on longer than tonight, if I’m being honest. But I’m not fully ready to admit how long it’s been coming on—even in my head.
Silky hair slides against my skin as his head moves, his lips replacing his finger.
The first drag of his tongue around my pebbled nipple leaves me squirming against the wall, lifting a leg to try to wrap around him and pull him closer. Gripping my thigh, he lifts and presses me farther up the wall without breaking contact with the breast he’s focused on. One hand free, I delve my fingers into his hair to hold him still. Not like I think he plans on moving anytime soon.
The sharp sting of his teeth has my thigh flexing around him.
“Ohh,” I cry out, and my hand tightens in his hair.
His tongue soothes the sting while his other hand releases mine. Bringing both of my hands to his head, I arch farther into him, trusting him like I never have before. His hand replaces his mouth, fingers twisting and tweaking my sensitive nipple as his mouth slides to the other side.
He doesn’t start slowly this time, nipping at me through the fabric of my dress before impatiently brushing it aside and tugging on the peak with his teeth.
“Fuck. Garrett.” My panties are soaked, my pussy desperate for the attention my breasts are the happy recipients of.
How the hell is he so good at this?
“Imagination,” he murmurs before sucking the tip into his mouth.
Did I say that out loud?
“Yes, Ames, you did.” Amusement threads the husky rasp of his voice. Apparently, it’s impossible to keep my thoughts silent as he works my breasts.
Cool air blows across my nipple, tightening it more, and he tugs at it with his teeth while simultaneously twisting his fingers around the other one.
“Ohmygod,” I moan. I’ve never been so close to orgasm simply because someone played with my breasts.
You’ve never let Garrett see your breasts.
I should have. Had I known he was a master of the female body, I would have. But it’s not any female body. It’s mine. Possessive pride surges through me. I’m the only one he’s ever made feel this way.
He lifts his head and gives me a wolfish smile. Noticing my attention, he crushes his mouth to mine while my nipples drag against the crisp fabric of his shirt. A long moan works its way from my throat, and he savors it, fingers flexing against my hips as the sound quiets.
His eyes gleam in the darkness when he breaks the kiss, lips swollen and damp. Leaning forward, I intend to kiss him again until he steps back. One hand pressed lightly against my chest keeps me still.
“I’ll be back.”
He’s leaving? What the hell—
Only he’s not leaving. He sinks down until he’s on his knees in front of me, his eyes level with the place that has been begging for his attention. Instead of going for the thigh high slit that gives him immediate access, his hand brushes the hem of my dress before it glides up. All the while, his attention doesn’t shift from what’s in front of him. The single-minded focus is…hot. It’s the only word I can come up with at the moment since his hand has risen to my hip, fingers toying with the string of my panties.
