“You realize you can’t bluff your way to a wi—”
The words die on my lips as he trails his fingers up my inner thigh, stopping just below the hem of my shorts. My pussy clenches, desire radiating through my limbs like a heat wave.
“So fucking sexy.” His gaze is molten as he looks me up and down. “I want you to ride me like you rode that bull. Think you can do that, sweetheart?”
His fingers slide under my shorts, and when he rubs my clit, every nerve in my body tingles with desire.
I swallow, mouth drier than the desert outside, and nod.
He sits up, unbuttoning my shorts with deft fingers.
I toss the ice pack on the bed and pull my shirt off over my head before unclasping my bra and tossing it onto the floor. Then I set to work on Miles’s shirt as he strips off my shorts. Our movements are quick and efficient, driven only by need.
I fumble with his belt buckle, and he takes over, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his jeans as I remove my sneakers.
He tosses a condom on the bed, and for an instant, we stand face-to-face, both naked, both vulnerable.
Everything about us is a sharp contrast. We shouldn’t work. Shouldn’t have anything in common. And yet, here we are, Miles’s erection heavy against my belly.
He stares into my eyes, desire flaring like a brush fire.
Then he’s kissing me, tongue gliding along the seam of my mouth, strong arms wrapped around me, fingers sliding up my back as I grind against him, relishing the feel of his cock against my throbbing clit.
It’s not enough.
It never is with Miles.
I push him back onto the bed and straddle him, savoring the look of surprise and delight on his face as he lays back, giving me complete control.
It’s a heady feeling—like champagne fizz straight to the brain—having this powerful, charismatic man at my mercy. His eyelids droop and his lips part as he skims his fingertips over the curve of my hip, climbing higher until he’s cupping my breast, a look of stunned adoration on his face.
My heart squeezes. No one has ever looked at me like this before, and it’s almost too much to bear because it’s our last night together. The last time he’ll look at me this way. The last time we’ll make love.
The last time we’ll be anything other than friends or coworkers.
My skin is too hot. Too tight. Too restrictive.
I reach for the towel lying on the edge of the bed and grab one of the ice cubes that’s fallen out.
It’s slick and melty now.
Perfect.
I close my eyes and press the ice cube to my chest. It’s sweet relief for my heated flesh, and I relax as a thin rivulet of water cuts a path through the hollow between my breasts.
Miles’s warm hand settles over mine. “Let me.”
He takes the ice cube and slides it over my skin, tracing circles over my breast, each one smaller than the last. With each pass, he draws closer to my nipple, heightening my arousal and my need for him to touch the dusky flesh.
I arch into his touch, half sobbing, half begging when his name tumbles from my lips.
Then the ice cube is gone and his mouth is on me, hot and hungry, warming the cool flesh, the contrasting sensations sending my body into the best kind of shock.
“Dios mío.”
His tongue circles my nipple and then he flicks it with his tongue, reminding me of all the other wonderful things he can do with his mouth.
Later.
