He nods, looking a little disappointed.
Inexplicably, that excites me—it makes my blood pump a little harder. How far can I push him? “It’s not gonna be a quick shower, either,” I add.
“Take your time,” he says lightly.
I start replying, but cut myself off as he reaches for a wine glass. Wait, where the hell did that come from? I don’t have wine glasses… Did hebringit?
“But first, come here.”
At the order, arousal and anticipation knot together in my stomach. Damn, I love thatdon’t argue with metone. Makes me want to argue real bad.
I approach tentatively, and he sets the glass aside. When I’m within reaching distance, he wraps a hand around my hip and jerks me against him. A gasp slipsout, and I have to catch my balance on his chest. He slides his index finger into the choker and uses it to pull me in as he curls down and slants his lips over mine.
There’s zero ramp-up to this kiss. As he fuses our mouths together, I find that he tastes earthy and acidic from the wine and tomato sauce. It makes me smile against his lips—a smile he returns against mine.
He strokes his hands down either side of my torso and lets them land on my ass. I moan into his mouth as my core electrifies from the contact so close to where I want him to touch me. That moan turns into a whimper when he grips me tight, squeezing and kneading as he pulls me even harder against him—something I didn’t think was possible until it happened.
Just as I’m trying to get my legs around him, he pulls back. “In case you were wondering, love,that’sa proper greeting.”
I hum thoughtfully, lips stretching into a grin as I unwind from around his neck and drop back fully onto my feet. “Not ‘what the hell are you doing in my house’?”
He shakes his head.
“Not ‘hands off my pussy’?”
“I hope not,” he chuckles, glancing over at Some Bills. “I think he quite likes me.”
“Well, then… Pip pip, my apologies,” I tease, attempting a British accent and failing miserably.
With a soft smile, he reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “What do you think ‘pip pip’ means?”
I shrug.
“It’s a farewell, and it’s quite old-fashioned—mostly said ironically, now.”
“Oh,” I say. Backing away, I move towards my bedroom door. “Well… Pip pip, then. I’ll see you in about an hour.”
He nods and turns back to the stove. “When you’re finished, we’ll eat, then we’ll discuss the important stuff—logistics, our plan, etc—andthenwe’ll play.”
A thrill zings through me. I love how casually his dominance comes out sometimes. Because he just said it like it was a foregone conclusion. Like there’s no room for argument. “You mean you actually plan to try to make me come this time?” I taunt.
Once again, he refuses to rise to the bait. “I do. And you will.”
That simple, straightforward reassurance replays in my mind while I shower, making me shiver despite the boiling temperature of water I prefer.
After the everything shower that leaves me languid and tingling, I take a quick peek into the main room and my heart does a happy dance. He’s sitting on the couch, reading something on his phone and stroking a totally blissed out cat.
I duck back into my room to dry my hair and consider my next move. I’m liking Wesley’s little delayed gratification game plan less and less. I just… I need to know what he feels like inside me. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to sit across from him for an hour when I know the night is going to end in my bed.
Do I go along with the plan that means I get what I want, but not exactly how or when I want it?
Nah, not really my style.
I have a lot more pretty underwear he’d probably like, though I wonder if that’s enough to tempt him to veer from his little plan. And, I mean, if we’re just going to get naked after dinner, I don’t really need to put on clothes…
Oh,ding ding. That’s the one. We’ve got a winner.
When I emerge, Wesley is still on the couch. He doesn’t look up as I step into the room, so I clear my throat pointedly.
