When she walked out a few moments later, I knew for sure God was punishing me.
“What the hell are you wearing?” I asked, my dick hardening against my zipper.
She looked down at her chest, a grin smarting that sassy mouth of hers. “A shirt.”
One finger curled at the hem of my favorite Yankees shirt I’d had packed in my bag, the ball of her foot twisting in place while she licked her lips.
Teasing me.
Luring me to the edge of a very steep cliff.
I wanted to know what that finger tasted like. No doubt it tasted as sweet as she smelled.
Like goddamn candy.
The kind you have to suck the sour to get to the sweet.
Every part of me wanted to devour every inch of her. Not to mention how good she would look underneath me. The images funneled through my mind in quick succession, one after the other. The countless ways I could make her mine. But the guilt still remained. Nestled somewhere between want and need.
Iwantedher, but sheneededmy help.
I promised Bodie.
Desire gnawed at my resolve, but I stayed rooted in place. Her dark eyes peeked up at me as she made her way over, determination heavy in her gaze. “You don’t like my shirt?”
“It’s mine,” I growled.
“I know.” She stopped in front of me, reaching for my hand and placing it between her legs. “And so is this.” Standing on her tiptoes, her lips brushed my cheek, breath hot in my ear. “If you want it.”
The heat of her pussy paired with the damp fabric between her legs snapped my pathetic control. Leaning down, I captured her lips, her pliant body sagging against mine. My promise to Bodie was washed away as her taste flooded my mouth, a hint of tequila mixed with lime and a pound of need that rivaled my own. There was no more pain, no more guilt.
Just…her.
Raising my other hand, I brought it to the back of her neck, gently grasping the strands of her soft, silky hair before giving them a hard tug. Her head fell back with a gasp, breaking our heated kiss, and my mouth descended on her neck with greed, my fingers stroking over her wet panties.
“I want to take you here and now,” I told her.
“Reid, please. I’m begging you.”
“What do you want, Cassidy? And you better be very specific.”
She moved her hand to my cock, stroking and squeezing me through the rough denim of my jeans. “This specific enough for you?”
Her words fell on a whisper, stripping away any remaining hope of ever escaping what I knew deep down had been inevitable all along.
My body was on fire.
Set ablaze by the one man who had the power to do it. I couldn’t believe how bold I was, but it seemed to finally get his full attention.
His hand fisted tighter in my hair while the other moved to my cheek to gently caress my skin. “Take off the fucking shirt,” he ordered before releasing me to collect a step back. His blue eyes were hooded, a dark promise hidden beneath the undercurrent of pleasure, drowning me.
I’d tried so hard to keep it casual during dinner. We’d had a nice time. It almost seemed like we were on a date. I even caught him laughing a few times. But then his eyes would turn hard.
That armor of his firmly in place.
I had done everything I could to dismantle it but it seemed that the only way to get his attention was to be assertive and very clear about what I wanted. Swallowing hard, I did as he said, peeling the T-shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. He stood motionless, his face impassive as he raked his eyes down my body in a way that screamed one thing…
“Panties,” he ordered next, the deep sound of his voice vibrating with heat between my thighs, an ache building with the intensity of his command.
