Page 103 of Hoax and Kisses
“I—” She sucks in a harsh breath. “Not here.” Now she’s the one gripping my wrists and removing my hands from her face. She laces her fingers with mine and tugs. “Come with me.”
I don’t blame her for not wanting her dad to see us, but the secrecy still carves a small ache in my chest.
Ignoring the sensation, I follow, letting her guide me through the crowd. There’s a new urgency to her movements, a sizzling current running up my arm. Once we’re out of the throng of people, she makes a left turn and leads me into a quieter hallway. She doesn’t stop until we’re standing next to a cleaning cart stationed by the reception desk.
She snags an “out of order” sign from the cart, then drags me along again.
“What are you—”
“Shh.” She walks briskly down the corridor, and I trail behind eagerly. She could be bringing me to hell for all I know, and I would gladly follow her through the fire.
She pushes through a door to the left.
“The bathrooms?”
Zoé releases me, and peeks into a few stalls, checking if we’ve got company. When she finds none, she opens the door and places the sign in front of it.
“There.” Grasping the front of my suit jacket, she yanks me flush against her, her back hitting the door, and I have to brace a forearm next to her head to keep from crushing her.
“Kiss me now.” Her commanding tone sends a thrill down my spine.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I hook my finger under her chin, tilt her face to me, and lean in.
No prelude. No teasing.
Just her need melding with mine.
When I finally touch her lips, I’m home.
She tastes like my favorite things: flowers and sunshine. Or maybe she is my new favorite thing. I claim her mouth, coaxing her lips apart until I can glide my tongue against hers in long, slow strokes.
I grasp her waist, digging my fingers into the fabric of her dress, holding her tight against me.
Nails scraping along the back of my neck, she sighs, melting into me. A shiver ripples through me at the sound, threatening to bring me to my knees.
Her leg bends, sliding against the front of my pants, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. She pushes, putting pressure there, and I grow impossibly harder, a groan escaping me.
Zoé grins into my mouth.
“You proud of yourself?” I ask with a teasing smile.
“Not yet.”
She rubs against me again, and I suck in a sharp breath. “You have to stop doing that.”
I dip my chin, parting her lips with my tongue.
“Why?” she pants between kisses.
“Because I’m already struggling to control myself,” I rasp.
Pulling back, her eyes hooded with lust, she says, “Then don’t.”
My heart goes into V-fib at her words. Like a switch has been flipped in my brain, her permission releases all the cuffs on my urges.
I capture her mouth again, pinning her between my body and the door, and drag one hand from her hip to where her dress splits.
