His jaw ticked, fingers flexing once against my skin before he dragged them up my thighs, gripping just hard enough to remind me exactly where I was. Exactly how we’d gotten here.
I didn’t really care about the bed; I was still thinking about how his hands were still on me. How he was still beneath me. How his suit was stillonhim.
I leaned forward, palms pressed against his chest, tilting my head slightly. “You gonna fix it?”
“Fix what?”
I let my hips roll just slightly. Just enough to feel him beneath me. Just enough to make his breath hitch, his fingers pressingharderagainst my thighs.
“The bed.”
His eyes darkened. “You bought cheap furniture. Buy a new one.”
I smirked. “And here I thoughtyouwere a problem solver.”
He shifted beneath me, moving his hands impatiently. Then I was on my back with his hard body pressed against mine. He was teasing me again, hovering his mouth a breath away from mine.
His hand was still on my hip, thumb brushing against the sensitive skin beneath the hem of my dress. His other hand stayed braced beside my head, keeping me caged beneath him.
I wasn’t used to Marco like this. I wasn’t used towantinghim like this.
My hands slid down his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt and the buttons I wanted to undo. I kissed him again. I couldn’t help myself. My breath caught, and he felt it. Smirked against my mouth like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
My fingers found his belt and unbuckled it, the metal clinking softly as I worked the leather free. Marco didn’t stop me. If anything, he encouraged it, his breath hitching slightly when I dragged my nails over the waistband of his slacks.
I wasdizzywith him.
The smell of cedar and smoke, of that ocean-breeze fabric softener ... the warmth of his breath, the way his hand flexed possessively against my hip ... I thought it was numbing.
And then?—
His phone rang.
The sound shattered the moment like a bucket of cold water.
Marco ignored it.
At first.
Let it ring once.
Twice.
Threetimes.
His forehead dropped against mine.
To my complete and utter despair, the phone kept ringing.
I wanted him to ignore the call like he had before. Now wasn’t the time for a phone call. Not when I was still burning from the touch of him. I didn’t want to feel desperate, but that was exactly what I felt when he turned away from me and answered.
“Grey.”
A pause.
I propped myself up on my elbows, watching him.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I’ll be there.”
