“None taken.” My eyes wandered from his dark eyes down to his lips. “What did you have to pay Jayson to hang out with his super fan while you whisked me away?”
“Nothing, babe. That man doesn’t need my money. He’s just a hell of a friend.”
“Seems he is.” I could only manage a few short words. He stole my breath with each small touch and a stare so intense it made waves in my stomach.
Unsure of how it was possible, he stepped even closer to me. Our bodies now pressed up against each other so tight I could feel my heartbeat ricochet off him.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Avery. You haven’t left my mind since last night—long before that, actually. I need you to understand that I want to kiss you again. I can’t leave here without having your lips on mine.” I could hear my heart in my ears, responding to his gruff voice, pounding so loud that Icouldn’t help but listen to it. My heart was screaming at me to dive headfirst, to take a chance on him—on myself.
“A kiss? Is that all you want?” I swallowed thickly.
“And so much more, Bella.” His grip grew tighter around my hips.
“Then take what you want from me. Right here, right now.” I swallowed. “I’m yours tonight.” Eager to get my hands on him, my fingers roamed over his thick forearms.
The tight hold he had on my hips intensified for a split second. Within a blink of an eye, he lifted me, setting me on the cold marble.
“Mine,” he growled before grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me a breath away from his lips. With his free hand, he found my thigh, working his strong digits up the skirt of my dress. When my mouth popped open at the feel of him touching my bare skin, he showed me what it was like to be his, claiming my lips with a bruising kiss.
The whole world seemed to slip away in that moment. Every time I was with this man, the less I feared responsibilities, and the more I wanted to give myself over to him.
He was wild and sexy. Unlike any man I’d ever been with. Being around him made me feel different. There were tiny strings pulling on my heart, each one tied to a different emotion I hadn’t felt in years … or ever. With him, I felt desired. Wanted. I felt giddy at the idea of when I’d get to see him next. I lived for the moments he would brush his fingers along my skin, press his lips to the fine lines sprinkled across my arms, and burn my sensitive flesh with the coarseness of his beard.
We were in a bathroom making out, desperate for each other. With each swipe of his tongue against mine, a feeling deep in my stomach brewed.
Want.
Need.
Desire.
Internally, I was screaming for more. The tighter he gripped my thigh, the more intertwined my fingers became in his hair, tugging, and pulling with every dip of his tongue. His fingers crept up my dress, so close to my center I could feel my panties grow damper with every stroke of his thumb gliding along my inner thigh.
Spreading my legs, I invited him in. Tonight, I wasn’t on his payroll. There would be no guilt for giving in and taking what we both wanted.
His groans and my whimpers mixed in a perfect harmony of yearning. Just when I couldn’t take the heat of his palm lighting up the inside of my leg, I broke our kiss.
Panting, I begged, “Please, touch me. I need to feel your hands on me.”
His eyes turned dark, sucking me into them like a black hole. “You wet for me, Bella?”
“See for yourself, Daddy.” Taking my hands out of his hair, I leaned back on the counter with my teeth digging into my bottom lip so hard I could draw blood.
Resting back on my hands, I widened my legs even further, waiting for his next move. But when he tore his hand away from my leg, a ping of disappointment stabbed me in the chest. He didn’t say a word; he didn’t let his eyes slip away from mine. He just licked his lips, and ever so torturously slow, rolled up one sleeve at a time, exposing the black ink on his forearms.
My mouth watered at the sight of them. Even with the tattoos covering his skin, his veins still popped from his arms. Once his sleeves were rolled up, he didn’t waste any time placing his hands back on my thighs. Gradually, his heat inched up my dress, pulling it up with his touch.
“By the way you’re looking at me, I’d guess that you’re soaked beneath these panties.” Both of his pointer fingers brushedagainst the lace of my underwear, drawing a needy moan from my lips.
When my head tilted back, his fingers latched onto the lace, ripping them open and exposing just how drenched I was for him.
“Oh my God,” I moaned at his abrasiveness.
“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you another pair.”
“I don’t even care. I just need you to touch me, Spencer.”
Giving into my pleas, he pulled one hand away, curving it around my lower back while the other swiped at my slick center.
