Page 111 of Friend Me

“No.” He clasped my hand, which had started to wander south. “As much as I want your hands and your gorgeous pink lips on me, I’ll wait until we’re alone. I’d rather not have my first act as a director to be caught with your hands in my pants.”

I leaned back. “Your hand was in my pants.”

He lifted his hand to his mouth and popped his thumb inside, sucking it clean. “Totally worth it.”

My eyes widened as my mind raced to images of him sucking me clean. I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I’d make it worth the risk.”

He shivered, and I doubted it was because of the wind whipping the flag above us. But his hands went to my back and zipped up my dress, tugging it back over my shoulders. He leaned back against the railing and turned me so my back rested against his chest. The blanket covered us both. “For now, let’s just enjoy the cruise.”

“Did you want to go back downstairs?” He looked fine, if a little sweaty and rumpled. I’d most likely cried off all my eye makeup and kissed off my lipstick. And I didn’t even want to look down at my dress to see the creases. But if he wanted to rejoin the party, hold my hand, and undo that stupid dance with Cooper by dancing with me the rest of the night, I’d do it.

“No. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

And so did I. Unlike Andromeda, this princess wasn’t waiting for a rescue. She was grabbing her destiny with both hands and never letting go.

* * *

“Best holiday party ever.”Tyler held my hand as we stepped off the gangplank onto the dock. I’d insisted on waiting until we’d docked and everyone but the catering staff had left the ship. I wasn’t about to let my coworkers see me after I’d scrubbed off my melted mascara with a damp paper towel in the head and finger-combed my hair. Forget beachy waves. My hair was wind-whipped and tangled like I’d been in a turbine.

Reunited with my phone, I answered Alicia’swhere-are-youtexts and offers for a ride.

Me: I’m fine, and Tyler’s driving me home ??

I looked up with a wry smile. “Thanks. I did it all myself while you were living it up down in Texas.”

He unlocked the door of his Mustang and opened it for me. “I’m sorry. I—”

I placed a finger over his lips to stop him. “It’s important that you see your family. I’m glad you did it, and”—I swallowed—“I hope it means you can spend the rest of the holidays here with me.”

He put his arms around me and touched his forehead to mine. “I want to spend as much time as possible with you. Starting right now.”

I kissed his lips briefly—it was freaking cold, and not even Tyler’s suit coat was keeping me warm now—and slid into his car. He shut the door behind me, got in on his side, and cranked the engine and the heat. I shivered when cold air blasted out of the vents.

“Want to see my new place? It’s not far from here.”

He gripped my frigid hand and kissed my knuckles. “The heat works?”

“I think we can make plenty of our own,” I said in my sultriest voice.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Too cheesy?”

He kissed the icy tip of my nose. “I love it when you’re cheesy.” Then he nosed around to my ear and told me exactly how he planned to warm me up, using filthy words I’d never heard from my friend.

I could’ve sworn he had heated seats in that Mustang.

A quick drive later, I unlocked my apartment door. With Tyler pressed against my back, I couldn’t remember if I’d washed the dishes or tossed my pajamas into the hamper. So far, only Alicia had seen my apartment. Would he like it?

I stepped inside and flicked on the light. “So, this is—”

A second later, I was pressed against the door. He gripped my hands, planted them on either side of my head, and kissed me again, slowly at first and then building to a dance of tongues and nipping lips. When he released my mouth to kiss down my throat, I was done for.

Nothing had ever felt as good as his fingers in my hair, his lips on my skin. Who knew that the back of my neck, right along my hairline, was an erogenous zone? Two people: Tyler and sex-starved Marlee, that’s who. He tangled his fingers there, and I shuddered.

I pawed at his chest. He’d taken off his tie and placed it, rolled-up, in the pocket of the jacket I still wore. Finding the buttons of his dress shirt, I worked them open by feel while his lips found mine again in another open-mouthed, citrus-flavored, needed-him-more-than-I-needed-to-breathe kiss. Oxygen was overrated. All the important nerve function was happening in the lizard part of my brain.

When I was able to push his shirt open, I groaned into his mouth.

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