I’m no longer only curious about who she is.
I am curious if she tastes as sweet as she smells.
And in the need to find out, I cover her lips with mine.
Chapter 5
Mila
Holy shit.
Dominic is kissing me.
I’m derailed by the reality of what was about to happen as his mouth hovers over mine.
And now, even as it is happening, I can’t wrap my brain around it.
Dominic brings his hand up to my cheek, brushing my hair back from my face, and his thumb runs along my jawline, sending tingles in every direction throughout my body.
I feel the wig move.
He probably knows Brynn is the only girl at the Cockpit that actually has blonde hair. But I still don’t want him seeing me without wearing my entire costume.
He might recognize me.
So I bring my hand to the back of my head and hold it there.
A sultry move that both arches my back and protects my identity.
Dominic leans across the sleek center console of the Maserati. I dare to press my hand to his chest, feeling his firm pec muscles and the sharpness of a clearly defined collarbone under my fingers.
“Mm,” I moan into his mouth, and he rasps out,
“Fuck…”
I swear, just hearing him say that word makes my nipples hard enough to cut glass. The parts of me that have been untouched and neglected for a very long time are suddenly very alive and aching to be caressed.
Aching for him.
My boss.
I’ve thought about him this way ever since the first time he walked me through his house. I remember having a hard time focusing on the instructions he was giving me because I couldn’t stop staring at the way his jaw moved when he spoke. It’s slight and deliberate. The way he fills a room with his presence simply by standing there.
Now I get to feel all of that in my hands and against my body as he leans closer.
He reaches over me and pulls the lever on the side of the chair to lean my chair back as far as it’ll go.
I giggle at the insanity of what I am doing right now and the sheer excitement I feel.
His mouth stays on mine, his tongue forcing the kiss deeper, and my body reacts in a primal way.
I grab his shirt in my fists and pull him down on top of me.
The first time I saw his car, I wondered why he went with a four-door and not a sportier two-door. He’s a rich bachelor, why not go with the flashier of the two?
But as he climbs on top of me, I know the reason is that this car has much more room. I am actually thankful. If the car was any smaller, we’d be fucked.
“I want to feel you,” he says into my neck, his words gravelly against my skin. “I want to feel how wet you are.”
