Page 51 of Wrong Number. Right Don.
The drive home is quiet, both of us full from dinner.
Being in her presence is intoxicating, though. I’m not ready to give it up. Not tonight.
Maybe not ever.
I park in front of the house, the engine humming for a moment before I kill it. The porch light flicks on automatically, but neither of us makes a move to get out.
Nicole sits quietly beside me, hands folded in her lap, head tipped toward the passenger window as she gazes across the garden. To the spot where we almost kissed before Sasha interrupted us.
“You’ve been quiet,” she murmurs, turning to face me.
“So have you.”
“I think I’m just trying not to ruin the moment.”
I shift in my seat, angling toward her. “This is a moment?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious I might be the one to ruin it.
She nods once. “It definitely feels like one,” she whispers, the air between us suddenly reverent.
“You look beautiful tonight,” I tell her, unsure what else to say.
Her gaze dips to my mouth and lingers. I lick my lips in anticipation, and that’s all the invitation she needs. She leansacross the console, her hands gripping the lapels of my jacket, and presses her lips to mine.
It’s not soft or tentative; it’s fueled by the same fire that’s burned between us since that very first text. She’s addictive, and I’m insatiable.
I groan into her mouth and pull her onto my lap in one fluid motion. Her legs straddle me, her knees on either side of my thighs, and I feel every curve of her body as she settles against me.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging, and I capture her lower lip between my teeth before deepening the kiss. It’s hot and wet and urgent. She grinds against me now, her body doing all the begging her mouth hasn’t dared voice.
“Fuck,” I breathe against her jaw, trailing kisses down to her neck. “If you aren’t careful, I won’t want to stop.”
“Who says we have to?” She grins wickedly.
That’s all the encouragement I need.
21
NICOLE
Istraddle Sergei, planting my knees in the leather seat on either side of his hips, not caring how cramped the space is. The jaws of life wouldn’t be able to pry me away from him right now. Our need for each other always simmers just beneath the surface, and tonight I don’t have the energy to fight it.
His hands slide down my sides with a slow and possessive feel. When he finally locks his grip on my ass and grinds my body against his hard length, I moan into his mouth and roll my hips over his, electricity pulsing through every nerve. And it’s still not enough.
“You’re torturing me,” he growls, his lips dragging down my neck. “You can’t imagine how much I want you.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” I manage, breathless.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes dark and wild, and reaches for the hem of my dress.
“Have you ever fucked in a car before?” he asks, a wicked edge in his tone.
My body tightens at his words, heat surging low in my belly. I bite my lip and shake my head slowly.
“This would be my first time,” I admit, more aroused than embarrassed.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “Fuck, that turns me on,” he growls.
He kisses me again, and this time it’s feral, just teeth, tongue, and unimaginable heat. I can’t think about anything but the way he feels against me, how much I want him to fuck me senseless right now.
