“It was fine.” She moves again, the hem of her dress taunting me, begging for my palm to slide up and under the fabric. “It helped knowing you were close.”
The statement has my body buzzing for a whole different reason.
“Good.”
It’s a low rumble, and her tongue peeks out to wet her lips, and I’d bet my damn paycheck that little shift in her seat is so she can squeeze her thighs together.
The SUV groans as I slam it into park in her driveway, thankful that we actually made it here in one piece becausefuck,she’s a distraction.
She unbuckles her seat belt but doesn’t make a move to get out of the car.
I don’t either.
With one hand on the wheel, I watch as she turns her upper body toward me, leaning her forearm on the console as her breasts strain the fabric of her dress.
Perfectly outlined.
Perfect for my hands.
And my tongue.
Her eyes are hooded as they dip to my mouth with interest before dragging up to meet my gaze.
She’s so close—closer than she should be and not nearly close enough.
I can hardly breathe, the pull between us undeniable and?—
My phone buzzes, the sound amplified by the cupholder, making Kat yelp and turn away in surprise as I swallow a string of expletives as I pick the damn thing up. I’m running completely on autopilot, reverting to work mode without thought.
Like breathing.
“Oakden.”
“Are you back at the house yet?” Royce asks, his breathing labored like he’s been working out. I know he’s not because he only works out with Kinsley because she thinks they’rebonding.
“Just arrived,” I reply calmly, exiting the vehicle and walking around to Kat’s side to open her door. She slides out, the dress pushing up before falling back into place when her heels land on the driveway.
Those fucking heels.
“Call me back when you get inside.” He disconnects without waiting for me to respond as I lead Kat into the garage and into the house.
“What do you think about takeout for dinner?” I ask, desperately wanting to sayfuck itto every responsibility and pin her to the wall with my body, ravage her mouth until she’s gasping and dizzy with need.
“That sounds great. Pizza? Or maybe barbeque?”
“Whatever you want.”
She rolls her eyes before taking a step toward me, spinning enough so her back is to me. “Can you help me with my zipper?”
I have no idea if she actually needs help or if she’s trying to rattle me. If it’s the first, fine. If it’s the latter,it’s working.
But I’m a professional so I brush her hair over her shoulder, my touch featherlight as I trace from her shoulder to the nape of her neck. For a guy my size, the zipper should have me fumbling, but I’ve never fumbled a god damn day in my life.
And I don’t plan on starting now.
Torturously slow, I drag the zipper a third of the way down her back, splaying my palm below where I stopped before leaning close. “All set.”
“Thank you.” It’s a breathy whisper, her lips parting as she turns, so close I could wrap my arm around her waist and pull her against me.
