“You left your fiancé and family behind.”
“You were upset,” Sabrina said, breaking eye contact.
She was right about that. Stepping closer to me, she stopped with just a few inches separating us. She was so close that I could feel her body heat radiating out, warming me from the inside out.
“So what if I was?” I asked, my voice harsher than I intended. Sabrina frowned.
“You’d rather I didn’t pursue you?”
I pushed away from the door, side-stepping her and pacing the space.
“I don’t know what the hell I want,” I admitted, but as I said the words, I realized that they weren’t true. I wanted her.
“Should I go?” she asked and there was a vulnerability to her that made me want to hold her.
Fuck it.
“No,” I said, striding forward until she was pinned against the door with my body flush against hers. “Don’t you dare.”
I kissed her with everything I had.
Sabrina
Fireworks exploded between us. They always did.
We hadn’t worked out any of the awkwardness between us, but I couldn’t focus on that as Butch’s hands went to the hem of my T-shirt, his lips pulling away from mine for only a second as he yanked the thing off over my head. Then he reconnected the kiss as his callused fingers ran down my back, following the curve of first my spine, then my ass. He squeezed me there, causing me to gasp, which he took advantage of by thrusting his tongue into my mouth.
I fisted his shirt where my hands were on his chest, feeling like I needed to hold on to him. Pushing his knee between my legs, he forced my thighs to part, allowing his body to move into the space until the hard ridge of his erection was pushing against my core, drawing a low moan from me.
Butch ground against me as he pulled his lips away from mine to start trailing them down my neck. Desperate for more from him, I moved my hands to his belt, unfastening it and opening his jeans with quick, steady movements. Reaching inside, I gripped his hard length and pulled it out of his boxers, stroking him.
His head fell back on his neck as he closed his eyes and let out a soft sound that was half exhale, half groan. Turning the tables, I ran my lips along the column of his throat as I continued to stroke his erection, the smooth, warm flesh moving over his rigid core.
“Fuck...”
“Take your shirt off, please,” I requested, looking up at him through my eyelashes.
Reaching back, he grabbed the back of his black T-shirt and pulled it off, revealing his sculpted chest and abs. I leaned forward to press a kitchen to his chest, pumping my hand up and down even faster.
The next thing I knew, Butch grabbed ahold of my arms and spun me around. Then he backed me up until I was pressed against one of the tables in the room. My hand released him as he made quick work of removing my pants and underwear, leaving me in only a bra.
I took it upon myself to get rid of that, and Butch picked me up, putting me on top of the tall, wooden table. I spread my legs wide, staring into his eyes as he lined himself up at my entrance. He slowly licked his lips as he pushed himself inside, and the eroticism of that alone made me clench around his thick erection. Butch paused halfway inside of me, his eyes wide and his breathing short.
“Holy shit, baby. Are you trying to turn me into a one-pump chump here?”
I laughed lightly, and the action must have caused some sort of tightening or vibrating around his erection, because he let out a strangled moan before grabbing ahold of my hips and thrusting his pelvis forward in one smooth movement. My laughter was cut off as he stretched me wide, almost hurting, but also feeling so damn good.
“Butch!” I cried out.
As he started to move in and out of me, making my breasts shake and a stream of low moans come from me, I reached up and held on to his shoulders.
That was when I caught sight of the engagement ring on my finger, the one that symbolized my commitment to someone else. I probably should have been ashamed that I was in this position with Butch—and loving it—while wearing the ring, but I didn’t. Instead it thrilled me. I felt wild...naughty.
I was a bad girl. I’d never felt like that before.
“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Butch groaned into my ear, just heightening that feeling of being improper.
The only sounds in the room were the small noises we were making—small moans, heavy breathing, filthy words—and the rough sound of the table scraping across the wooden floor just a tiny bit every time he thrust into me. I hoped no one else tried to come in here. Even with the door locked, they would know what we were up to in here.
