Page 67 of Delayed Penalty

He traces my lips with his tongue, begging for entry, and I don’t dare deny him. My head is fuzzy, and I feel dizzy as our tongues tangle together, like I’m going to pass out, but I don’t want to pass out. I wantto savor this moment for as long as I can, savor the taste of him. It’s something sweet, and I realize what he was eating—ice cream.

It’s butterscotch.My favorite.

His kiss turns softer and sweeter, less impatient and more languid, and I’m so glad I’m pressed against the door because I melt into him, craving this softer side of him as much as I crave the harder side. Speaking of hard…he is. His cock presses against my belly, long and heavy, and I want so badly to reach my hand between us and feel him. He got to touch me. It’s only fair I get to touch him, right?

So I try to, only to have my attempt thwarted when he grabs my wrists and holds them against the door above my head in one hand. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so annoyed by it. I groan, but he just chuckles, clearly the one in charge here. He continues kissing me, running his free hand down my throat and over my arm, down my side and back up again, like he’s memorizing every inch of me. I get it. I want to memorize every inch of him, too.

I don’t know who pulls away first, but suddenly we’re a mess of stuttered breaths as we gasp for air, my back still pressed against the door and Hayes crowding me, caging me in like he’s afraid to let me go for fear I might run.

And I just might becauseWhat the hell?We justkissed. Again. We just crossed the line. Again. We are so, so screwed.

I run my tongue over my bottom lip, peering up into his silver eyes, unsure what to do.

“What was that for?” I ask.

“I had to get you to shut up somehow.”

I buck at him with my hips, trying to wiggle free, but he doesn’t let me.

“Stop. That’s not what I meant. I just meant?—”

“What?” I snap. “What did you mean?”

“I… Well, I guess I did mean that. It’s just…”

I sigh. “You’re going to need to make up your mind here, Hayes. This hot and cold doesn’t work for me. You can’t keep kissing and touching me and then act like I’m the only one at fault here. We’re both adults. We?—”

He cuts my words off with his mouth once more. I want to resist. To pull away. To stop him.

But I can’t find it in me to do it. I want to kiss him more than I don’t want to.

He moves his lips against mine expertly, his grip on my wrists softening just a bit, but not enough for me to get free. I both love it and hate it because I want to touch him so badly, like the way he’s touching me, tracing his fingertips over my side, across the band of the yoga pants I’m wearing like he’s trying to decide if he should try to take them off or not.

Do it, Hayes, my mind screams.Touch me.

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he pulls away again, and I groan. He laughs darkly, and I glare at him.

“Shut up.”

“You first.” He grins, then runs his fingers over my waistband again, this time pulling it away and snapping it back into place, and I love the bite of its sting.

He peers down into my eyes, his silver stare hard and serious. “Look. We both know this is a bad idea.”

“A big fucking mistake, right?”

He nods. “It is. The biggest…”

“But?”

He shakes his head. “No but. That part is true and even you can’t deny it.”

He’s right. I can’t. What we’re doing is wrong on so many levels. I should do the right thing and tell him to stop, but I can’t quite make the words come out.

“I want this, though,” he says on a whisper, almost like he’s afraid to say the words any louder. “I wantyou. I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”

I want you too.

“Then take me, Hayes.” I lean forward and ghost my lips over his as I rub my body against him like some desperate girl, and I guess I am. “Take me, because right now, I’m at your mercy. I’m all yours.”

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