Page 42 of Mad Rivals
“Did you walk here?” he asks.
I nod. “I live close by.”
“It’s late to be walking by yourself. Let me walk you home. Or at least let me add a stop to my own Uber home.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and I know he’s just doing it to be nice. I relent as I nod, even though the thought of him walking me to my door fills me with both tingles and dread. “Okay. You can Uber me.”
He pulls out his credit card to pay the tab, and I start to put up an argument.
He holds up a hand. “Stop. It’s a business expense.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but I hold up both hands in surrender anyway.
We head out front, and the cool evening air sends shivers down my spine.
“The car is four minutes away,” he says, flashing his phone at me to show me the driver is en route to us, and I wander backtoward the building and lean on the bricks several yards down from the door.
He steps into place and leans beside me, and he’s just a fraction too close.
I make the mistake of drawing in a deep breath, and it’s filled with him. It’s warm and rich, a little spicy and heady, and it makes me think of sex. With him. Tonight.
It’s off the table. I know it is. Still, I can’t help but peek over at him, and when I do, I find his head angled down as he studies me. His eyes are heated and glow with need, and despite the way I should feel tentative, I don’t.
I want him to kiss me.
I want to see if the passion is as strong as I imagine it will be.
It’s like he senses what I’m thinking as he kicks off the wall and moves to stand directly in front of me. His eyes are hot on mine as something unspoken passes between us.
“Tonight was nice,” he says softly.
I can’t seem to come up with any sort of coherent response. “Yeah.” It’s a mumbled word that nearly rides the line of being a needy moan.
His eyes flick to my lips before they move back to my eyes, and I wonder if he does this with all his female business rivals or if this is a first for him the way it is for me. Are we even still rivals after tonight? It’s hard to tell. My father doesn’t want me going near him, and yet his head is starting to lower, and all I can think about is his lips connecting with mine.
I’m a little drunk, I think. Sober Kennedy would stop this train, but right now, I can’t. I can’t look away from his gorgeous face as it moves closer to mine.
I can’t push away the body that takes a step closer. Well, Ican. I don’t want to.
All I can think about is his lips, his hands, his body as it closes the space between us until I’m consumed by him.
His body presses to mine, pushing me back into the brick wall of the building, and my breath catches in my throat as one of hishands moves toward my hips and the other slides around my neck.
He’s touching me, and I grip onto his biceps to steady myself. I’m still pressed against the wall, yet it feels like I’ll fall to the ground if I don’t hold onto him.
I tilt my chin up, anticipation and adrenaline running rampant through my chest as he moves until there are no more inches between us. My stomach flips as he leans down, and his nose brushes mine. It’s a million sensations all at once. His scent overwhelming me. His touch pulsing a dull ache down low in my belly. The sound of cars rushing past down the street drowned out by the beating of my heart pounding in my ears.
And now it’s time to find out how he tastes.
I close my eyes, and his lips connect with mine.
It’s overwhelming.
It’s explosive and hot, and when his fingers grip a little harder on my hips, a moan rises up out of my chest.
He takes the opportunity to open his mouth to mine at my moan, and his kiss is somehow both tender and aggressive at the same time. His tongue moves against mine with a skilled sort of confidence that tells me he must have many talents with that tongue.
I dive right in, too, meeting his tongue brush for brush as we attempt to navigate this new, unexpected connection together.
