Page 47 of That Moment
“You think I didn’t see what you were doing today?” I ask, voice low, already rough with desire. “Walking into my shop dressed like that. Tight little dress, heels clicking across the concrete, pretending you didn’t notice me watching you.”
Her pulse flutters in her throat, and I reach up to drag my thumb across it. “Maybe I just wanted to look nice.”
I laugh once, dark and humorless. “No, Adrienne. You wanted to drive me insane. And it worked.”
I hook a finger under her chin, tilt her face up until our mouths are a breath apart. “You bent over that damn desk, thrusting that tight ass in the air, knowing I couldn’t touch you. You walked out like nothing happened, leaving me standing there with a hard-on and a head full of things I wanted to do to you.”
Her breath catches. I press closer, let her feel exactly what she’s done to me.
“You want to know what I was thinking while you strutted out?” I rasp, mouth grazing hers. “How easy it would be to pull you back inside, bend you over that desk, and make you say my name while I fucked you until you forgot how to act so damn smug.”
She gasps softly, fingers clutching my shirt. “You wouldn’t have.”
I smirk. “Sweetheart, you have no idea how close I was.”
I kiss her hard and deep, my tongue doing all sorts of filthy things to hers. She moans into my mouth, all the sass bleeding out as she melts against me. My hands are on her hips, pulling her against me. I’m lost in the feeling of her against me, the way her body feels against me.
“Careful,” I warn, pushing my thigh between hers, the friction making her gasp. “You start making a habit of teasing me like that, I’ll have you on your knees in front of me begging.”
Her breath hitches when my hands slide up her sides, thumbs brushing the swell of her breasts. She shivers, and it makes something primal uncoil in me, knowing she’s putty in my hands at the slightest touch.
“You’ve been baiting me for years, but today… Mmm.” My moan sounds like a growl. “Watching you walk away at the shop. Smiling at everybody but me. You wanted this.”
She tips her chin, defiant and flushed. “Maybe I wanted to see if you’d come and take it.”
I grip her jaw, force her eyes on mine. “I’m right here, sweetheart.” My voice drops to a growl. “And I’m going to take. Every. Fucking. Thing.”
She surprises the hell out of me when she pushes at my chest. Hard.
“But first,” she says with a coy smile, “I’m not done.”
She takes a step forward, eyes sharp and mouth swollen from my kisses, and grabs my shirt again like she’s testing boundaries. I let her guide me through the kitchen doorway, my back brushing the wall before we hit the living room.
Then she shoves me. The backs of my knees hit the couch, and I drop with a rough laugh. “You sure about this?”
“Not done teasing you yet,” she says, voice breathy with need already.
Before I can answer, she’s in my lap, straddling me. That little black dress rides up her thighs, the thin scrap of fabric stretched across her pussy is no match for how hot her skin feels against mine. Her heels dig into the cushions on either side of me, bracing herself while she starts to move. A slow grind, deliberate, every roll of her hips sending a fresh curse through my teeth.
“Jesus,” I growl, gripping her hips hard enough to make her gasp. “You trying to kill me?”
She smiles, eyes glittering with mischief. “You said I was teasing you. Thought I’d try a little harder.”
Smartass. Beautiful, smug smartass.
I slide my hands up, palms tracing her waist, her ribs, up to her breasts. I squeeze through the dress, groaning when she arches into my touch. “I need this fucking dress off of you.”
“Patience,” she whispers before sliding her tongue into my mouth as she grinds down harder against my cock.
“Oh fuck, Jesus.” I pant. “You keep teasing, I’m going to forget I promised myself to take my time.”
Her answer is a low laugh that dies in my mouth when she leans forward to kiss me again, slow this time, messy and deep. I groan against her mouth when her tongue slides against mine; I feel it all the way to my damn toes.
Then she changes it up, grabbing both of my wrists and pinning them over my head against the back of the couch. Her hair falling forward, brushing my face, her eyes daring me to move.
“Now who’s in control?” she whispers, grinding harder, her breath catching when my cock presses exactly where she wants it.
I let her play. Let her think she’s winning. My muscles tighten beneath her grip, my pulse hammering. Watching her come undone above me, her dress riding up, cheeks flushed, lips parted… It’s almost better than taking over.
