I fist his hair and pull his lips onto mine. “This is integral too.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
His tongue fills my mouth again, and it’s all I can think about. I barely follow his fingers undoing the remaining shirt buttons or pulling my bra down to expose my breasts. Until his mouth closes around a nipple and I’m left gasping for air.
He unzips my pants and slides a hand inside my panties. His finger is cool between my legs. Or maybe I’m overheated because I’ve been imagining this moment since my coworker first pointed out that he was watching me.
“You’re wet.” His lips are back. His voice is husky.
“You noticed.”
He kisses me softly. “I notice everything about you.”
“You always know the right thing to say.”
“Maybe, but this time I mean it.”
Something seems to click inside our bodies then. Bash’s kisses grow hot and demanding. He tugs my shirt over my shoulders and drags it out from underneath me, unhooking my bra at the same time. My nipples harden. I try to unfasten his shirt buttons, but my fingers aren’t working properly, and it isn’t happening quickly enough.
So, Bash pulls away. He stands up, removes his shirt, pants, and socks, and tosses them onto the rug by the bed. His erection has created a tent inside his boxers that makes my eyes widen. He tugs my pants over my hips and adds them to the pile of clothes on the floor.
Then, he kneels at the end of the bed at my feet and lies on top of me, supporting his weight on his forearms. He strokes my hair away from my face. “I’ve made an executive decision. We’re going with foreplay.”
“You’re the boss.” I chew my bottom lip, and he tugs it free with his thumb.
“Kiss me, Remy.”
And I do. I kiss him until my head is dizzy from the lack of oxygen, and tiny whimpers escape my lips.
He seems to know the exact moment when I need to come up for air. He shuffles back down the bed, dragging his fingers down my body and hooking them inside my panties. If my pussy could talk, she’d be squealing with excitement. Because almost every steamy scene in every romance novel I’ve ever read begins this way, and I never realized until now how desperately I wanted to be the main character.
I swallow hard as he slides my practical white panties down over my hips. He licks his lips, and I groan out loud.
I expect him to spread my legs wide and bury his face between them. But instead, he straddles my closed legs and licks my mound as if I’m the best dessert on the menu and he wants to savor every mouthful.
He peers at me, eyes dark with want. “Do you trust me, Remy?”
“I don’t know you.”
He doesn’t react to the comment. “You’re here though.”
I am. I’ve never had a one-night stand. Never wanted to. But I want to feel Bash Murray inside me, and I don’t even care about the consequences or the ‘what happens next’. “I trust you.”
“Good girl.”
It sounds so sexy when he says it like that. “I just want you to know that I don’t make a habit of sleeping with?—”
“I know.” He shuts me down when his tongue slides between my legs.
Oh. My. God.
He opens my sex with his thumbs, still straddling my legs and trapping me underneath him, and it’s the wildest thing I’ve ever felt.
“Don’t fight it, Remy.”
I didn’t realize that I was until I untense my body and allow the sensation of his tongue between my legs to consume me. The reaction is instantaneous. My orgasm didn’t get the foreplay memo; it’s gatecrashing the party and heading straight for the main event.
My breathing is already too fast and too shallow. I’m way past fighting it, I’m dancing with it, and learning a new rhythm that I never knew existed.
