“Why are you still over there?”
He shrugs again.
Why is this so awkward?
“You haven’t invited me in.”
I grab his T-shirt and pull him into the house, shutting the door. Then I trap him against the wall for a change and press my lips to his. He takes my not-so-subtle signs and slides his tongue into my mouth. His hands drift to my ass, pulling me up from the floor, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
God, I can’t get enough of him. Our kiss is so frantic, it’s practically bruising, and when he ends the kiss, I groan.
“Fuck, I’m already rock-hard.”
“Sorry.” This whole being-horny-for-him-all-the-time thing is a little surprising for me too.
“Don’t apologize, that was hot as fuck. You can throw me around anytime.”
I smile and bite my lip, still a touch embarrassed even if he liked it. My body is humming to feel him inside me again.
I slide my hand between us and cup his thick length. “I love this easy access.”
“That wasn’t my intention when I got dressed. You know we don’t have to…”
I arch an eyebrow. “You don’t want to?”
“No, I want to, I just don’t want you to think I’m only here for that.”
“Oh.” I wave him off. “I don’t.”
I inch forward to kiss him again, and he rears his head back.
“Is there a problem?” I frown.
He shakes his head, but sighs.
I loosen my legs and climb off of him. “What is it?”
“Vega got fired today.”
“Shit.” I walk farther into the house, and he follows me into the kitchen.
“I was riding high after everything that happened with us and my mom. I felt like today was the best day ever, but then bam. We were told it was something with the upper office. An argument. The details are sketchy about whether he was fired or quit, but whatever it was, it’s obvious they weren’t going to come to an understanding. So, now they’re trying to find an interim manager for the rest of the year.”
I go over to the fridge and pull out a water and a beer. “Which one?”
“Beer, please.” He props himself up on the counter, and I grab two beers and walk over to him. “I’m ruining our time together.”
“No, you’re not.”
I hand him his beer, and he twists off the cap before taking a long pull. Then he grabs mine and twists off the cap before handing it back to me. I scoot up on the counter next to him.
“This could be a good thing,” I say, trying to see the silver lining.
“Or it could be a manager who already has an opinion on me based on last year.”
“But you’ve already made up for that this year. Any manager who comes in will know that last year was a one-off.”
He kisses my cheek. “You’re sweet.”
