His bottom lip pushes out as he nods again, less eagerly. “Sure?”
“I need you to promise me that we’llbothenjoy tonight. I’ve had a string of lousy hookups this year, and if I have to fake another orgasm, I think I’ll be legally required to become a nun or something.” I bite my lip, anxious that I perhaps am asking too much from him, a near perfect stranger.
He doesn’t bat an eye, but hisboyishgrin comes back in full, brutal force. “Win, if you walk out of that room sturdier than me, I won’t be happy.”
A leg joke?Be still my beating heart.
I cover my mouth as I gasp, a singular laugh breaking through. “You didnot.”
“I did,” he says, relaxing back on the couch. He raises his hand back to my hair again, playing with it as his eyes fall yet again to my lips with equal measures of desire and amusement. “Now… go upstairs and wait for me.”
CHAPTER 3
“Thatfeelssogood,” I sigh out blissfully, letting my belt fall to the floor of the en suite bathroom. I open the drawer under the sink that Sarah keeps stocked with an obscene amount of toiletries and find everything I might need for a quick refresh.
I fetch floss, mouthwash, deodorant, and a few makeup wipes for a quickdownstairsclean. It may throw off my pH balance, but that’s Win of tomorrow’s problem.
I hear a soft knock, followed by a creaking door opening, then shutting in the adjoining room.
“I’ll be out in a minute!” I call, removing some of the dark eye makeup I smeared on before the party.
“This is theirguestbedroom?” Bo asks from the other side of the door, clearly impressed.
“You’re in finance, right? How much do you think this house is worth?” I ask before taking a shot of mouthwash and swishing it around my mouth, then trying toquietlyspit it out.
He laughs but doesn’t humour me with a guess.
I toss my head forward, using my forearm and the crook of my wrist alongside my left hand to gather all of my hair into a high pony. I take off the leather skirt and boots but leave my white blouse—with extra buttons undone—and fishnet tights on.
With a few centring breaths, I apply some lip gloss, smack my lips together, and attempt to gather every shred of confidence required to open the door to the bedroom.
Sarah’s guest room is decorated in grey moody wallpaper and dark floors with a small chandelier in the centre of the room. I dimmed all the lights to a soft, flattering glow before making a mad dash to the bathroom. In the middle of the room, there’s a queen-size bed covered in a crisp white linen duvet, taupe knitted blankets, and throw pillows.
Bo sits on the edge of the bed, facing the doorway that I’ve yet to move from. The moment he spots me, he automatically lowers his hand to his lap and adjusts his trousers. Which doesgreatthings for my ego.
“Damn,” he says, his jaw working. He leans forward, chuckling to himself in an agonised, bittersweet manner before he looks up at me through hooded eyes. I’m struck by the illusion of powerborn from the eager look on Bo’s face telling me that he’d askhow highif I simply saidjump.
“I took off some of the… stuff,” I say, holding on to the door frame for balance.
“I can see that.” Bo wets his lips. His hands rub up and down his own thighs as if they’re seeking out friction of any sort. “It’s a good look.” He clears his throat, sitting up slowly. “Great—you look… great.” He smiles, but his eyes don’t—they remain raptly focused on me.
I take five steps toward him on pointed toes, stopping between his parted knees. His hands find the back of my legs, just under my ass. They’re tense as they roam over my skin covered in thinly netted tights. Even with him sitting down, my face is only slightly above his.
“I guess you were kidding about the sexy maid costume, then,” he says, his hands roaming from the back of my knees to the crease below my ass, his thumbs playing with the strings crisscrossing my thighs like a harp.
“Disappointed?” I ask, leaning forward. The tip of my ponytail falls against the hollow of his cheek. Bo tilts his nose toward it, and his eyes close briefly as he breathes in.
“Only a little.” He moves one hand from the back of my thigh to the nape of my neck and pulls me closer, tilting his jaw up to press his lips to mine.
“Maybe next year,” I whisper just before our mouths collide.
Our kiss is exploratory at first. Gentle but intentional. It isn’t until Bo’s other hand reaches my waist that it grows heated—teeth tugging, hands pulling, mouths crashing. I climb into his lap, my knees straddling his hips, and moan unwittingly when he tilts up into me as he leans back—the feeling of himjustbetween my thighs.
“I fucking love Halloween,” he practically growls against my lips, smiling even still.
All I think isoff.
Take my clothesoff.
