That's where we ended up in that moment, practically fused to one another. Hands on hips, lips on mouths, and moans coming from Maya that?—
"I want your mouth between my legs," Maya said against my cheek as she rubbed her breasts against my chest.
Uh-huh, Maya's dirty talk was out of this world.
"I'm going to make you come on my tongue," I said against her lips, attempting to keep up with her.
We stumbled through to the living room; I couldn’t say how, but it happened. I held her against my body as she walked backward.
"What are you going to do next, Sloan?" she asked, her wide eyes and the desperation in her tone totally doing it for me.
"Maybe it's time we stopped talking about it, and I get to work?" I leaned in and kissed behind her ear, tracing my tongue down to her earlobe and kissing her there.
Fuck, she tasted good.
"Yes," she said, closing her eyes and tossing her head back. "Yes. Yes. All the yes."
"Bed?" I asked, my voice husky and rumbly. "Or shower?"
She opened her eyes long enough to say, "Definitely the bed."
We didn't actually make any forward progress toward the bed. No, because her arms wound around my neck, my mouth took hers again, and things moved faster right there beside the closed door, standing on the plush carpet of our suite.
Her breaths became more uneven as her eyes dilated from apparent desire. Still totally clothed, her body knew exactly what mine needed, and vice versa, what with the way she moaned my name as I slid my leg between hers, and she rubbed against me.
I wanted to move my fingers to pull off my shirt, but she was multi-tasking with the leg thing and unbuttoning me all at the same time.
I held her steady even as I was more unsteady than I'd ever been. Everything was still mildly hazy around the edges.
I didn't mind because Maya tasted like tequila and lime and a great time.
I snort-laughed at my internal rhyme but managed not to stop kissing her. I should add ability to rhyme to my resumé, that's what I should do. Since my career was totally fucked, anyway, I'd make a new resumé, and I'd write it so it rhymed.
My manager would love that.
"What?" She pulled her mouth away from mine.
"Nothing." I held her jaw in my palm and went back to kissing her.
She leaned away, breathing heavy. "Seriously, why'd you laugh?"
"Because…" Okay, what the hell was I supposed to say? I ran my hand over my hair. "I…" I sighed. "I shouldn't be thinking about my resumé while you're unbuttoning me."
She stared at me as though she realized she'd been having this tryst with The King himself, and she wasn't sure what to do with that.
"You were thinking about your resumé?" She frowned as lines formed between her eyebrows. She crossed her arms.
I stepped toward her. "It was a funny thought. That's why I laughed, because there's only room in my head for you, and nothing else makes sense."
"That's remarkably sweet." She moved right back into unbuttoning my shirt. "I can see why that would be funny."
I walked her toward the bed. But it seemed like there might be two of them… I tried to refocus.
Shit.
My lack of momentum made her stumble slightly. I caught her.
Unfortunately, we both fell to the ground—her splayed on top of me.
