I feel his lips curl into a smile. He removes his hand from the wall, sliding it along the curve of my waist, over my hip, cupping my backside, lifting me back onto my toes as he thrusts me against his hard length.
My breath hitches. I’m so aroused that just that touch, that pressure, is enough to send me skating to the edge.
A mewling sound comes from the back of my throat. Pure need.
“You like that?”
“Yes.” This time the answer is right there. I want to touch him back, pull him against me, run my fingers through his hair, twist it in my fist until his mouth covers mine.
But I wait.
For the instruction. Forpermission.
“If you’re good, there’ll be more.”
I growl, wanting more now. Now, damn it.
“But if you ever, ever, wear something outside the dress code to the table again…”
“Yes?”
“You’ll be punished.”
He steps away, disentangling himself from me with one simple motion. He smooths the front of his shirt and pulls at the cuffs of his jacket to straighten the seams, instantly returning to his normal composure.
Meanwhile, I feel like I’ve been dragged backwards through a cornfield. My breaths are short, my cheeks are flushed, sweat gathers at my hairline. None of my clothing—the most comfortable things I own—seems to fit any longer. The fabric chaffs me in places I didn’t even know it touched.
I’m a hot sweaty uncomfortable ball of lust. Just thinking of my responses, fromsecondsago, leaves me embarrassed.
“Come on,” Baxter says, gesturing for me to walk ahead of him again. I don’t know how he can even stand to be near me but when his eyes meet mine, they twinkle with appreciation.
This is why I don’t date.
Well, this and that I never meet anyone even remotely interesting. Or interested.
My biological clock gave up ticking because it knew no one was listening.
“Sophia is home schooled and there’s a lesson plan, but I don’t expect you to pick that up today. I think she’ll just appreciate the company.”
My steps slow. I feel like I just took a ride on an adults-only roller coaster and he’s taking me in to visit with his daughter.
“Just a second.” I hold up a hand, flustered. “Yeah. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Two steps and he’s against me, taking my hand and pulling me through the doorway. “Nonsense. I never have bad ideas.”
“Lady!”
I stare in confusion as Sophia bounces towards me, grabbing hold of my leg in a tighter grip than her father had on me a minute ago.
“That’s your new name, apparently,” Baxter says, staring at me with an innocent expression before turning his attention back to his daughter. He crouches low enough to be at her eye level. “What? No hugs for me?”
She chews on her lip, still hanging onto my thigh with one hand while slinging the other arm around his neck.
“That’s better,” he sighs. “Do you want to know the lady’s real name?”
Sophia nods, eyes wide.
“It’s Isabelle. Isn’t that pretty?”
