Mark my words—whether it’s tonight or ten nights from now—I’m going to bury my face between her thighs, lick her until she’s dripping, bite those tight little nipples until she’s squirming, begging, and make her ride my tongue like her life depends on it.
By the time I’m done, she won’t just be saying my name—she’ll becryingit.
I lean in, my voice low and rough. “Oh, I’m more than qualified.”
“You’ll have to submit an application,” she says, still playing herlittle game. “References. Full background check. Possibly a physical. Competition’s brutal these days.”
I chuckle.
Her brow furrows. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because, Rorie…I’m done playing.”
One hand finds her waist, the other lands at the base of her spine, and I spin her quickly.
Her breath hitches. I kiss her. Hard. Deep. Like it’s the last thing I’ll ever get to feel.
And just like that, we’re no longer circling.
We’re colliding.
She tastes like challenge and longing. And one of those is a favorite of mine.
My hands slide into her hair as her fingers clutch my shirt, pulling me closer, securing us together. I hoist her up on the counter. A breathless, needy sound she couldn’t hold back if she tried, lights me up inside.
That noise? That’s not hesitation.
It’s surrender.
My palms roam up her inner thighs before coaxing them apart. She lets me, no protest, just a shivery inhale as I step between her legs and press in. My body slots against hers, every rock hard inch of me syncing perfectly.
I glance down at her spread legs and freeze for half a second because Rorie Adams isn’t wearing a damn thing under her skirt.
All logic disappears. Time, space, consequences, none of it exists anymore. Just her. Just us. Just this raw, reckless collision of need and want andmore.
She must see the question in my eyes because she says, “I don’t like panties.”
“Ever?”
With a wicked glint in her eyes, she shakes her head slowly. “Nope. Especially when I know I’m going to misbehave.”
Her legs open a few more inches. An unspoken invitation. An unholy temptation.
A feral growl involuntarily rumbles in my chest.
“What do you want to do, Rhodes?”
“Loaded question, Adams. But if you must know…I want to drop to my knees, bury my mouth in your pussy and make you forget every name but mine.”My hand inches up over her mound.
“Oh, fuck,” she huffs out, those blue eyes darkening.
“All in good time…” My cock fights against the barrier of my pants as she arches into me seeking pressure. “Right now, I want you desperate for the kind of friction that makes clothes feel like punishment.”
Her eyes flash, wild and bare. Her lips part. All that comes out is a soft little sound that nearly undoes me.
My thumb teases the tender skin above the place she wants me most. I lean in and drag my mouth across the curve of her jaw. She’s salt and want, heat built over stolen glances and sharp-tongued banter. And she’s finally breaking.
I map every line, every shift, every intake of breath. She’s tense beneath my touch, wound tight as wire.
