I frown, my brows slanting as I keep staring at her mouth. Not where I thought this was going.
Do I want to kiss her? No. I want to fucking devour her.
I want to taste her on my tongue and swallow her moans. I want—no, I need—to know if her lips are as sweet as her scent. If this obsession will become a downright addiction.
I fight the urge, still holding my three fingers up and staring at her now slightly trembling lips.
“How’s that for saying what I want?” And that, ladies and gents, is a hook, line, and a motherfucking sinker, so I do what any asshole in my shoes would do. I say fuck it and throw in the towel.
Without giving a fuck about her cut lip, my mouth crashes onto hers and I take, take, take every ounce of what she gives. My hands slide over to the back of her head, giving me a better angle as I pull her deeper into the kiss.
For every nip from my teeth, she bites me right back. For every moan that she gifts me, I stroke her tongue with mine. Breathing is overrated and whatever it is we’re doing is the much better option.
And it goes on, and on, and on until my cell phone rings, breaking the intensity of the moment.
Still, I can’t help but get the last word in. “Not bad, Sweet Bee. Next time, I’ll kiss your pussy exactly the same way.”
Chapter Ten
Berkleigh
Ifeel like I’m in a romance novel because my loins—yeah, I know—have been on fire all morning. I don’t know what came over me when I told him to kiss me. Maybe I’m still in shock and totally delusional after the attack…
Or more like I want to make new memories of a man kissing me, touching me, fucking me, to crowd out the memories of what happened. And Tanner is the safest option for all of those things. That’s all this is. He’s familiar, and I’m okay with that.
While I’m well aware that my thought process isn’t necessarily the healthiest—with plans of doing Karma’s job and ideas about fucking my high school tormentor—I’m allowing myself to go through the necessary motions.Mynecessary motions.
Work and routine have been my life for as long as I can remember, so I need to be here for myself as well as my clients.
For the first time in…well, ever, I’m wearing flat shoes in my office. Slippers, to be exact, because it’s the only footwear Tanner brought over from my home when he grabbed my work clothes. Paired with my long, wide-legged suit pants, they’re barely visible, and I understand why they’re necessary, but Idon’t have to like it. Wearing anything other than my stilettos in this office feels wrong on so many levels. However, I’m embracing the change.
I’ve only had two clients this morning, so it’s been relatively chill, but I have to say, having him here is a mixture of basically all of the feelings and emotions that exist. First, I hate it. Tanner being in my private work space is more unnerving than my slippers. He’s sitting on the couch in my office, the one I use for clients, his long legs spread out over the cushions as he leans back, tapping away on his cell.
Second, I’m glad he’s here. Every time my phone rings or someone walks through the door, my heart jumps a thousand feet into the air, afraid it’shimor the pair of mountains who accompanied him. But then I see Tanner and I’m not afraid anymore, my pulse calms and my breathing evens out.
Third, I’m annoyed. For multiple reasons. One being that Tanner massively overstepped by contacting my clients on my behalf, another being that I liked it.
I’m supposed to be writing up my report on my last client. Instead, I’m pretending to look busy while thinking about that kiss.
“That’s the third time you’ve sighed in the last two and a half minutes.” He doesn’t look up from his phone.
“Useful. That’s the zillionth time you’ve moaned about something in the last thirty seconds.” I continue to pretend I’m very busy and not being childish with my exaggeration.
“Brat.”
“Asshole.”
My stomach chooses now to start grumbling, flip flopping over itself in hunger. Greedy thing. I had breakfast that didn’t consist of a muffin this morning. Again. It was a substantial amount of bacon, eggs, and pancakes, and now my body is demanding more, getting used to the regular feedings. I check the time andit’s already one-thirty in the afternoon, so I suppose stopping to grab some food would be okay. There are two hours until my next client—a virtual one.
She’s a lovely girl, Hayley, but her story is tragic. Her mom died giving birth to her, or at least that’s what she thought until she found her when she was thirteen. Then her dad was brutally murdered a few months after finding her mom, she was kidnapped by her grandparents, and now she lives with her mom, step-dad, and younger sister. For now, anyway. During her last few sessions, she’s been confused about what she wants to do now that she’s finished college.
“I’m going to get us some lunch. Don’t go anywhere.” Swinging his legs around to the hardwood floor, Tanner pushes up from the light-gray couch and completely interrupts my thoughts.
“It’s not like I can go for a run, is it? I mean, I could, but it’d hurt like a bitch and I’d probably fall over a lot.” He hasn’t done anything—today—to earn my snappy response, but it’s a little normality in a world of chaos.
“Funny girl.” I think he almost laughs as he leaves my office, closing the door behind him without a second glance in my direction. A few seconds later, I hear the main front door open and close, too, meaning he’s gone. Just like that.
And I don’t like it.
