Page 25 of Under Pressure

What the hell am I doing? I quickly backtrack. “I mean, you’re normal. Everything feels normal.” I do the same as she did, grasping the area with my thumb and forefinger.

Her eyes narrow. “Did you just pinch my stomach fat?”

“I… uh…” Normally I like riling her up, but not this time. This is beyond the line, even for me.

So I do the only thing I can think of.

I kiss her.

Her lips are as soft and pliant as I remember, some light and fruity taste from her drink earlier mixed with a natural sweetness that’s all Mia. My hand moves from her waist to the small of her back, drawing her closer, and she complies, stepping into my body. She skims her palms up my torso until she has her hands on my shoulders, her nails digging in slightly, a sweet sting that makes me want to ask her to do it harder.

When I deepen the kiss, touching my tongue lightly to hers, she makes a sound of need in the back of her throat, one that has my dick springing up at attention.

But also getting my attention. I shouldn’t be kissing her like this.

I break apart from her regretfully, her eyes still closed as I put some distance between us.

When she opens them, there’s no lust or hunger like I expected there to be, though. She gives me a sardonic look as she asks, “Are you just going to kiss me every time you want to distract me?”

It takes me a moment to answer, thrown off by her response. “It seems to be working.”

“So why’d you stop?”

“Mia…” I bring a hand up to the back of my neck, rubbing away the sudden tension. I wouldn’t have cared about being blunt when I first met her, but things are different now. We’re in this weird coworker/friend/sometimes kissing gray area that I’m not sure how to make sense of. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”

She bristles, crossing her arms over her chest. “I never said I was either.”

Oh.

I don’t know why I’m taken aback, but she just doesn’t seem the type for casual hookups. “So what are we doing, then?”

“We’re just…” She throws her hands up, exasperation pouring off her. “Kissing, I guess.”

That works for me, then.

I grab her hand before I can second-guess my motives and lead her over to the edge of the room, backing her up and kissing her again, leaning in till all her softness is pressed against me. I grasp her waist, my hands familiar enough by now with her dips and curves that it feels natural to touch her like this. Outside her apartment door, in the lab, now here at Element.

How many other places can I touch her too?

I mentally shake my head to rid myself of the thought. I don’t need to be thinking of the future. Only the here and now. With a warm and willing Mia in my arms.

No, just a woman. It wouldn’t matter who it was. It doesn’t mean anything that it’s her specifically. Even as she tilts her hips so my dick nestles right in that perfect spot, my own hips thrusting automatically in response.

Her nails dig into my skin, just how I wanted it before, and the kiss turns rougher, until I’m ravishing her mouth, past the point of telling where I end and she begins. Who would’ve thought this awkward Hufflepuff from that day of interviews had it in her to match me kiss for kiss in public like this? To rub herself against me? To suck my tongue like that?

I run my palm over her ass and down her thigh, urging her to wrap her leg around my hip, but we’re interrupted by a screech.

“Amelia Bedelia! Get you some, girl!”

We break apart, the same blonde from that day at the library cackling to herself.

“Oh my God,” Mia mutters, stepping away from me.

“Are you this woman’s ride home?” a man standing next to the blonde asks.

“Yes,” she sighs, tugging her sweater down where it’s ridden up while simultaneously attempting to smooth down her hair. “I’m her roommate. What did she do?”

“I’m innocent,” the girl says, putting her arm around Mia’s shoulder and leaning heavily on her.

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