Page 35 of Always a Bridesmaid

“I wanted you the second you called me an asshole.”

“It was the truth.”

“I know. That’s why it was so sexy and complicated.”

She’d shared a lot of truths with him since then, things she rarely shared with anyone, but all the while he’d thought she was Elle, a socialite from a well-to-do family.

“Do you want me?”

“Desperately,” she answered honestly. “What about Sarah? I told her I wouldn’t cross this line.” But she really wanted to cross this line. “I take my duties seriously.”

“So do I.” He waggled a brow.

She smacked his chest. “I’m being serious.”

“I am too. But you and I have been nothing but honest, even when we’re razzing each other. So truth time, love. If it weren’t for Sarah, what would you want to do right now?”

She should say leave. That would be the smart way to go. But he asked her for honesty and she wanted to give him that. “You. I’d want to do you.”

“Who am I to deny a lady what she wants?”

And tonight was goingto be all about what Elle wanted. She was adamant about how complicated things could get and he wanted to argue, but couldn’t because of the mess of emotions knotting in his chest. Want, need, desperation. And some good old-fashioned hesitation and uncertainty.

Hesitation because he had a strict rule of never sleeping with his sisters’ friends. Uncertainty on how to proceed because he knew that all it would take was a gentle tug in either direction, and her dress would be like a Hula-Hoop around her waist. But then there was his dick piping up, reminding him that while he was contemplating the complexity of his emotions, Elle was looking at him as if he were the only man in the world to solve her problem.

Funny, because he felt like she was the singular solution to his ever-growing problem.

“Are we just going to stare at each other?” she asked, her voice rough and low.

“Depends. What color lace do you have on?”

She leaned back on the desk in invitation, resting her palms on the flat surface in a pose that had her tits on display, and if that wasn’t a green light, then he didn’t know what was.

He closed the tiny gap between them and stepped into her, his hands pressing palms-down on the desk, caging her in. She didn’t move, causing her tits to ever so slightly brush his chest.

He would have thought her hands were down his pants by the way his body reacted.

Gazes locked. “Is this your way of saying you want me to take you on the desk?”

She shook her head, then spun around. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “I want you to take meagainstthe desk.” She stuck out that heart-shaped ass, grinding into his groin so erotically that he nearly came.

He gripped her hips and yanked her bum all the way against his erection so she could feel just how badly he wanted her. With a moan, she wiggled.

“How long are you going to make me wait?”

His answer was to take her mouth with his in what had to be the most electric kiss of his life. The second their lips met it waslike a spark to gasoline, and his body went up like a five-alarm fire.

She didn’t close her eyes or look away; she watched as he let his mouth roam down her shoulder to her back, nipping and licking as he traveled down her body.

He reached the zipper of her dress and slowly slid it down her body, parting the material with his nose until the silky dress didn’t have a foundation to stand on and puddled at her waist, just like he knew it would.

His hands came around to confirm the story her bare back was telling him—she’d skipped the bra portion of her outfit.

As if a homing beacon, his hands immediately searched them out and hot damn. They were a perfect handful. Soft and pliant and puckered, begging for attention. He filled his palms, weighing them, sculpting them until she was breathing heavy.

He ran his hands down her sides, over the bunching of silky fabric to the backs of her thighs. When he started his descent, his fingers slid under the dress’s hem and, slowly tugging it up as he went, followed the gentle slope of her ass before cupping it.

“And what do we have here?” he asked when her dress was bunched around her waist, exposing a single sliver of lace that cut down between her cheeks. It was fuck-me red.

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