Page 77 of Gone With the Wine

He closes his eyes, a sliver of a smile on his mouth. “Fuck, don’t apologize for that.” He opens his eyes and the corners crinkle up. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I’m feeling…like I might still have a fever.”

His eyebrows twitch.

“Not really,” I add quickly. “I’m just really…hot.”

“Ah. Understandable. I am, too.”

I can’t help but let my eyes drop to the fly of his jeans. I roll my lips in, seeing the imposing bulge there. I let my gaze wander back up, over the thin cotton plaid shirt that drapes from his strong shoulders over his muscle-packed chest and flat abs. I linger at his throat. A pulse beats there and I want to lay my mouth there, breathe in the scent of his skin, and taste him.

Then I meet his eyes again. I remember the heat of his mouth and the feel of his body against mine and I want that again, so much. And more.

He leans closer, eyes going heavy-lidded, and presses his mouth to mine. Yes… He’s warm and firm and I lean into the kiss, opening for him. A low groan rumbles in his chest and his tongue licks into my mouth.

That fever inside me flares up hotter. I need to be closer to him. A moan leaks from my lips.

His hands move from the arms of the chair to my bare thighs. I watch them, big and rough and tanned on my smoother skin. My skin immediately tingles everywhere, and heat gathers between my legs. Our kiss goes scorching, wilder, frenzied as we strain toward each other.

“God, Jansen.” I let my head fall back as he drags his lips down my throat and sucks. “Please. I need…”

“Please what?” He licks my skin. “What do you need, Bianca?”

“You.” I whimper. “I’ve been thinking about you, too. Dreaming about you.”

“Yeah? Have you been masturbating thinking of me?”

My belly flips with excitement and I quiver.

“Because I’ve been thinking about you.” He kisses the side of my neck, then nibbles at my ear lobe. Shivers flow down my spine, the aching need inside me torturous. “Jerking off every day in the shower thinking of you. Every night in my bed.” His mouth slides over my cheek. “Imagining you.”

“Y-yes. I have.”

“Jesus.” He growls out the word and jerks back. His chest is heaving and his eyes blaze at me. “Right now, Bianca. Right here.”

My eyes widen and my pussy squeezes again. “We can’t. Not here.”

His eyes shift around the room. “You’re right. This is a shit place. Come on.” He pushes up out of his chair so fast it shoots across the floor, grabbing my hands and pulling me up, too. “Let’s go.”

He turns, still holding my hand, and tows me toward the door.

I scramble to keep up with him on rubbery legs. “Where?” I ask, my voice high and thin.

He doesn’t answer, just strides out of the lab, down the hall, and into the dark reception area of the tasting room. Is he taking me to his place?

No. Apparently not. He stops at one of the leather couches in front of the big stone fireplace, and with his hands on my shoulders he pushes me down into it.

My eyelashes are fluttering wildly. “Here?”

“Yeah. I can’t wait any longer.” He bends and unbuttons my shorts, then pauses. He meets my eyes. “Okay?”

I blink. Swallow. Glance around the room.

It’s beautiful here, with a thick rug on the stone floor, tall tropical plants in the corners, and leather couches and chairs, but it’s also like an atrium, with glass walls and a high glass ceiling supported with beams. It’s dark outside and it’s dark in here, but…I bite my lip. “Someone could come.”

“No one will come now.” His low, steady voice sways me, and also turns me on even more.

“I don’t want to wait either.” I press a hand between my legs.

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