Page 79 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
For one night, I just wanted to forget all the expectations I had to live up to. I didn’t want to think about Anthea or what would happen if I didn’t land the food critic position. I wanted to feel like I was someone’sfirstpick for once. To be desired so deeply that all the noise in my head finally went quiet.
James backed me up one step at a time until the backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed. I careened backward until my body met the soft mattress. He hesitated for a moment. This was the moment when I could change my mind like I had last weekend. Tell him never mind and ask him to pour me a glass of wine. I knew he’d be disappointed, but he would agree and pour me that glass of wine just because he was that nice of a guy.
But I didn’t want theniceguy tonight. So, I reached for the button on my pants.
Instead of unbuttoning his own clothes like I’d expected, James helped slide my pants down with slow, aching precision. His hands taking their time to squeeze my bare flesh before he tossed the clothing behind him.
Then—God help me—he dropped to his knees.
The way he looked at me, with raw hunger and reverence, made my skin burn. Like every blemish or imperfection I saw in the mirror was exactly what turned him on. His hands moved along my legs, over my hips, under my ass, then he curled his fingers around the band of my black thong.
“Can I?” he asked, his voice low and rough.
“Yes,” I breathed, nearly moaning the word.
He peeled the delicate lace down my legs, slow enough to make me squirm. I thanked previous me for shaving last night, despite having no idea where I’d find myself only twenty-four hours later.
His nostrils flared as he took me in and to my surprise, he leaned down to place a single kiss right below my belly button. “You are a masterpiece.”
I could have cried at the way he said it. Like he meant it. I’d never thought I was the prettiest girl in the room—especially being best friends with Roxie King. College nights out with her meant watching men start conversations with her first—that was normal for me. I found it difficult to believe a man found me attractive.
But not James.
James looked at me like I wasit.
I gave James’s shoulders a tug, he got the message andcrawled onto the bed with me. But there was only one problem. He remained fully dressed, unlike me, who was half-naked.
My fingers reached for the top button on James’s shirt, but he shook his head, stopping me. The familiar fear of inadequacy returned.
“You do not know how much I want to have sex with you right now,” James whispered. “I’ve been thinking about it since the first time I kissed you on the steps of your apartment building.”
He kissed down my throat, dragging his teeth lightly along my jaw. “I had to stop myself from asking to follow you upstairs and ending our nightverydifferently.”
I gasped. That kiss had ruined me more than I cared to let on. I’d convinced myself it was just timing. Just for work. But I’d imagined him doing exactly what he described.
“The Hamptons was just the appetizer,” he said. “A taste of the main course. I wanted to hear how my name sounded in that breathy moan of yours. I want to hear it right now. I want to hear it while I’m inside of you. But tonight I want something even more.”
His lips brushed my ear.
“I want to taste you. I want to make you fall apart. Tonight is all aboutyou.”
Heat pooled between my thighs as James licked down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake as he crawled back off the bed. “I still can’t believe there was a time I hated you,” I said with a nervous laugh.
James kissed the inside of my thigh. “You never hated me,” he said, looking up with a smirk. “Though, I’ll admit,it was kind of hot when you glared at me like you wanted to set me on fire.”
“James,” I said, pushing at his shoulders, nerves settling in. “I just want to warn you it may take a while for me to come. It’s not you—I’m just sensitive, and sometimes I get in my head and—”
“Hallie,” he cut me off. “Stop talking.”
He crawled up, kissed me deeply, then whispered, “I don’t care how long it takes. In fact, I’m hoping it takes a while. This isn’t a chore for me, Hal. This is dessert after the meal we just had, and I’m going to savor every last bite.”
Could he be any more perfect?
“Now,” he said, kissing his way back down my body, “tell me what you like.”
I hesitated. But the way he looked at me, like there was no rush, like this moment belonged to me, gave me courage.
WhatdidI like?
