Then my hands are on the move. South over that hot tattoo, over those delicious ridges of his criminally sexy abs. I feel his stomach muscles contract under my fingers, right on the line of scandalous.
A totally embarrassing sound slips out of me—half gasp, halfholy fuckarousal that I can’t even try to hide.
Inhibitions fraying by the second, I let him guide my hands closer to where his belt buckle rests, fingers just brushing the tempting trail of hair leading downward . . .
As I glance down, my breath catches in my throat at the sight of a very blatant, very prominent bulge in his trousers. He’s rock hard and ready to go.
This is actually happening. And I sure as hell don’t want to stop it.
What would it be like to have Connor fuck me? Just one round of angry sex. That’s not too much to ask for, is it? It’s been forever since I’ve been fucked, and if I’m being honest, I’ve been fantasizing about this ever since that disastrous hotel incident.
My hands tremble as I greedily grab on to his thick, hard cock through the fabric of his slacks. Connor is all fucking man. God, it feels good—it’s been too long since I had a solid decentdick in my hand to play with, and his is thick, throbbing, and primed for some serious action.
Damn, he’s huge.
I could do so much with this. Arousal pulses through my body at the image of him filling me up.
Just let me at it. Let him ravage me like there’s no tomorrow.
Our eyes lock in a heated stare as I grip his cock tighter. And fuck, I can already feel my panties soaking.
“How many nights have you lain in bed, fantasizing about me, Lexi?” he murmurs. “How many nights have you made yourself come, imagining it was my touch?”
“As if,” I lie, still rubbing his length.
He clasps my chin in his grip. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Once or twice,” I admit shamelessly. Once or twice a night, more like, but who’s counting?
He grins, enjoying this power over me. His finger traces lightly over my bottom lip before catching it possessively.
Lost in lust, I fumble with the button on his pants and try to push my hand inside. But he catches my wrist before I can explore further, a smirk playing on his lips as he traps my fingers against his belt buckle.
“Easy there,” he growls in a husky voice. “It’s not gonna happen. You had your chance and you blew it.”
My eyes go wide. “What? You’re playing with me?”
Christ, what am I doing here? Horror floods me, snuffing out any leftover flickers of desire. I’m meant to be selling this guy as Monogamy Poster Boy of the Year, not trying to manhandle the goods behind closed doors.
His infuriating smirk deepens as he removes my overeager hands from his belt. “Those privileges are reserved for Willow,” he chides with a tut. “Weren’t those your rules? But I gotta say, it’s pretty interesting to see how quick you can stray from thecompany script.” His eyes light up with a mix of amusement and a touch of mockery at my embarrassment.
I snap my hands back as if scalded. “You’re a jerk. And if it’s only for Willow, why are you so aroused?”
“Your little hand was all over my dick, Lexi. That’ll generally get its attention. I don’t see what’s so surprising about that.”
Ugh. I could use ten deep breaths in the bathroom right about now.
Finally taking a solid inhale, I get a grip on myself. “Fine, let’s do the date your way then,” I say evenly, smoothing my tone. “Extravagant dinner at your five-star place. Have your assistant fetch an obnoxiously huge bouquet and half of Tiffany’s best sellers. Willow’s a lucky girl.”
The sarcasm spills out of me as Connor casually finishes buttoning his shirt, that signature crooked smirk plastered across his face.
I have to get out of here before I completely lose my cool. I make a beeline for the door and am almost there when—
“Lexi.” His voice freezes me in place.
I pivot around. “Yeah?”
He stares at me. “What does this elusive ‘perfect date’ of yours look like, huh?”
