A small sigh escapes her mouth, passing from her lips to mine. Over her clothes, I find her breasts. Even through her bra, I can feel the hard nub of her nipple, aching to be sucked.
Moaning, she arches into my hand.
Forget restraint.
You couldn’t hold me back if I was chained to a mountain.
One more flick of her tongue, and I’m hard enough to split rock.
“Brady.” The faint gasp of my name has me seeing myself tugging those jeans down her slim legs and discovering what’s between them.
Then she slides up and perches on top of me, her lush hips rolling against mine like waves calling me to dive in.
Fucking madness.
Her cheeks are still damp, reeling from that harsh confession about her ex ruining her for other men—and it makes me want to find him and kick his nuts through his skull.
This isn’t real.
It isn’t supposed to be.
But every kiss, every moment, every scalding breath can’t lie.
My fingers dip down, diving under her jeans, toying with the lace underneath, pulling until she whimpers. She inhales so sharply there’s no resistance.
If I want to rip her panties off and mount her right now—
But what’s that sound?
Somewhere in the distance, there’s a sharpthud.
I’m so sex-drunk I almost ignore it.
It can’t be important when I have Lena Joly on my lap, her mouth fused to mine. If it’s some lost maintenance guy or building security making the rounds, they’ll find their way out.
I slide my hand through her hair, and it’s just as soft as I imagined.
Sweet perfection.
Then another sound. The chime of my doorbell this time.
Lena breaks away.
“Brady?” Her rosebud lips are flushed, and her eyes are mad marbles.
“Ignore it. They’ll go away.” I move in to kiss her again, but she turns her head.
“I don’t know if she will,” Lena whispers, twisting away.
She?
For the first time, I hear my name in an incoherent screech.
“Brady Pruitt, you answer this door right this fucking second!”
Goddamn, so much for paradise.
Why did they let her up?
