Another smirk. He leans in, his voice barely a whisper. “Then you’re the only one who isn’t.”
The tension between us is so intense, I’m starting to feel lightheaded, like the room’s spinning. “God, you’re arrogant,” I manage.
“Only when I’m right.”
“And you think you’re right about everything, don’t you?”
“I’m right about what’s important. I’m right about what’s true. For example, right now, you want me to touch you.”
The wire snaps between us.
He’s kissing me before I can think, before I can breathe. One second we’re fighting, the next I’m practically drowning in him. His mouth is demanding, rough, the kind of kiss that wipes every single thought from my head.
I meet him with the same fervor, tangling my fingers in his shirt, tugging him against me. The tension I’ve been carrying since that night together two months ago comes pouring out, and I can sense by his kiss that he feels the same way. Rage, want, confusion—it all flows out of me and intothat kiss.
He takes me by the hips, pushing me back up against the kitchen bar, his hands firm on my waist, his tongue inside my mouth.
“Tell me to stop,” he says. His voice is low and rough. His cock is hard as stone, pressing against me through his slacks.
I should. I really should. Instead, I grab his collar and pull him down to me. “Don’t you dare.”
He growls, the sound low in his chest, vibrating through me. His restraint, what’s left of it, breaks like glass.
He lifts me onto the counter, the marble cool under my thighs. The kiss deepens, fierce and consuming. I forget the argument, the danger, hell, even my name. There’s only his kiss, the way he holds me, and the surrender I so badly want to give into.
CHAPTER 14
GABBY
“God, I want you.”
Sasha’s mouth crashes into mine, a kiss so fierce, it steals my breath.
I clutch his shirt, and his grip on my waist is possessive in just the way I need. He places his hands on my thighs, parting them as he slips his fingers underneath the band of my sleeping shorts. Our breaths are fast, ragged, the air crackling with desire.
I should stop. I know I should. But my body’s screaming for him, heat pooling between my legs, my panties already soaked.
Sasha pulls back, his dark eyes blazing with hunger, reminding me of two flaming black pools of oil. “You’ve been fighting this, haven’t you?”
The question doesn’t need to be answered—we both know what it is.
“Tell me how much you want me.”
I scoff instinctively, not wanting to be so obvious about how much I need it.
“You’re so damn cocky.” I try for attitude, but my tone is breathy and raw. There’s no hiding my desire.
Sasha reaches down, placing his hand between my thighs. I moan as he touches me, grinding against him. “You’ve got sass,” he says. His fingertip drags against the contours of my lips through my shorts and panties. “But your body tells another story.”
He’s got me there. Then, like a total asshole, he takes his hand away, smirking as he does.
He slips his touch under my shirt, calloused fingers grazing my ribs. Then he cups my breast.
“Your body tells the truth,” he murmurs, thumb circling my nipple until it’s a hard, aching peak, my pussy throbbing in response. I’m drenched, and he knows it, his other hand skimming my thigh, reaching under my shorts and teasing the edge of my panties. “Say it,” he demands, brushing my pussy once more, feeling my wetness.
“Fuck, Sasha, I want you.” I hate how desperate I sound, but the need in me is too strong to deny.
“Good girl,” he growls. He grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and tossing it aside. His mouth is hot on my collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
