I know I sure as hell am.
He reaches behind me to unclip my bra. His hands are greedy yet gentle against my skin.
I reach for his cock, loving how he curses, feeling how hard and thick he is. It’s enough to make me smile against his mouth.
Then he cups my breast in his hand, and my smile fades.
“Fuck me, Brady,” I whisper. I’m worried that I sound a little violent.
“Demolition, Sass. That’s the plan, unless you’ve changed your mind.” He gives me a wicked smile. “Last fucking chance.”
I squeeze his cock again, and man—oh man—he is going to rearrange me from the inside out. I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same, and I kinda don’t care.
His free hand tracks a hot trail down my side to the waistband of my jeans.
“Lena,” he rasps against my lips. “Tell me now.”
“No. Absolutely not,” I gasp.
“Then show me how soaked you are for my cock.”
“Brady Pruitt, I thought you wanted slow?” I laugh against his mouth as I shift onto his lap, rocking my hips again. Just so I get the pleasure of hearing him groan with hellfire flashing in his eyes.
He groans again, and his hands land on my ass, squeezing so hard.
I giggle from the high.
God help me, I giggle.
It should be ridiculous and a little embarrassing, but really, it tells me how different this is. With Harry, sex was always this dark chore anchored in his satisfaction. I was an afterthought.
Sometimes before the breakup, he’d get up right after it was over and leave the room, telling me he had work to do with his internship.
This sweet teasing feels nothing like that.
This is pure revelry.
No man has ever made me laugh so much. Even when I’m so horny I might combust, Brady still has a direct line to my funny bone.
He leans back and meets my gaze, his eyes hot and heavy and dark.
He doesn’t ask with words—not when his glance is so demanding.
Holding his gaze, I slide off his lap and stand in front of him. The blinds are down over his enormous windows for evening, but part of me wishes they were open.
Let the whole world see.
Let Seattle know that Brady Pruitt only has eyes for me.
I hook my thumbs under my pants, and his hand covers mine.
“Off,” he orders.
My lips quirk up in a smile, slow and sensual.
A challenge?
I never could resist.
