Page 29 of The Confidant

“Enjoy it. And wonder if I’d need a hot coffee to warm my tongue up enough for you.”

I do like a bold man. The smirk he gets after saying it has me burning up.

“What would you want next?” My knees go back to moving his.

“To walk you home,” his eyes roam over my body hungrily.

“And then?” I press, suddenly breathless. His hesitation to answer as his gaze moves over me has anticipation tensing my muscles.

“I’d be a gentleman and go home.” He sounds pissed at the news. I feel the same.

“Even if this was your fantasy?” I ask with narrowed eyes. He’s letting me down here.

“Yes.” His eyes meet mine warily. “I’m serious about this. It’s more to me.”

My heart thumps painfully all the way down my ribs.

“I’m serious about us, too,” I mutter helplessly before I rally. “No one has been to my place before. I’d like to know what you look like when you wake up in my bed. I’m touchy-feely. Can you handle that?”

“Yes,” he whispers with wide eyes. Like he can’t believe I’m matching his honesty with my own, and a good bit of seduction as a bonus. That shocked look alone is worth the wait.

“That’s good. Can I sit on your lap now? I want to see if we can break Damon’s chair.”

His mouth works without a sound coming out. The implication is blatant, but I plan to keep it innocent.

“That’s a yes,” I crow with delight that he’s not popping out his favorite word immediately. I’m taking advantage of it before the opportunity slips away.

I push his chair back so I can get up. His arms fall open for me to sit down however I want. I plop down on his thigh, twisted to the side so I can still watch his face. He’s so shocked, I want to laugh. I snuggle into his side, and the chair leans with an ominous creak.

“So soon? Damn it.”

I move to get up, and his arms clamp around me like a vice.

“No. Stay where you belong.”

My heart speeds up at his perfect words. The combination of that and the feel of his body against mine has me melting. I took advantage first. Now it’s his turn.

I lean back with a fake, shocked expression.

“Poe Richards,” I breathe in disbelief. “Did you just bark at me like a dog?”

“No,” he protests with a ton of guilt on his face. The openness of the expression charms me.

“I’ll have you know I’m a raccoon. We don’t listen to yappy dogs,cher. Even if they’re raised mean from the junkyard. You go back to quietly grumbling, and we’ll be just fine.”

He bursts into laughter so loud it makes me flinch, but I join him anyway.

“I’m happy to hear that sound,” I sigh, settling my head on his shoulder. “I’m also a little smug that I made it come out.”

“You make a lot of things come out,” he relaxes back in the chair.

His arms loosen for a hand to rub along the outside of my thigh. One day, it might be a soothing caress. Right now, it’s torture. I focus on the heat radiating from his palm as it slowly moves from my hip to my knee, only to start again.

“Are you being perverted? I’m all for it,” I smile sleepily. I didn’t get much rest last night, and he’s the best chair I’ve ever sat on, no matter how much I want to rub my body all over his.

“That would be you, trash panda,” he taunts even though his hand tightens on my thigh possessively.

“Oh, look who comes back swinging, yappy. I’m so proud.”

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