I toss my head back and laugh. “You are so bad.”
“Which is why you want me,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“Which is why I want you.” I pull back. “But if you call the police, then they’ll report that you assaulted Luke.”
Pane shrugs. “I don’t care. I’ve got money and lawyers. No charges will stick.”
“You are terrible.”
“No, I’m not, or else you wouldn’t be here,” he whispers between kisses.
He’s right about that. This feeling, what’s buried deep inside me, is pushing to get out. It’s not just that Pane is crazy sexy and I want him.
This is so much more than that. I can feel my heart when he’s around, something I haven’t experienced inyears. I never want this feeling to end, and I know it’s right. Pane is right for me. No matter how wrong we are on paper, we are so right together.
He kisses me again, deeply, and I melt.
When we part, Pane brushes my hair off my neck. “I meant what I said. This isn’t just a project, and I’m not going to walk away from you in a few weeks.”
I talk past the lump that’s threatening to squeeze my throat shut. “I know.”
Once the words are out of my mouth, my body can breathe. My throat opens and my lungs fill with air. Just saying the words makes me realize they’re true.
They are so true, and I believe him.
He sits back and glides his hands up my legs to grab me by the hips and tug me to the edge of the bed.
My hands make their way down his naked chest, reveling in the feel of every dip and valley of his muscles—of which there are many.
It would be stupid not to admire him. So I take my time with his flesh, running my fingers over his freckled shoulders, down the dark hairs that lightly coat the center of his chest, all the way down to his abs. His stomach flutters when I touch him.
“No tickling,” he warns again.
“Now you asked for it.”
I tickle him once before both my hands are in one of his and are being held hostage over my head. To even the playing field, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him into me.
Pane’s erection is hard against his jeans, straining the fabric. He’s pressed against the throbbing spot between my legs. All of me wants him.
I wiggle my hands out of his hold and pull him tight, until there’s no space between us.
I grind against him like a horny rabbit. My body has no shame when it comes to just how much it wants this man,andwants him to know it.
I’m on fire for Pane. Every piece of me wants him. My girlie parts are swollen with need, and my panties are soaked.
The dry humping—or desert-cameling, as Cristina and I jokingly referred to it in high school—is intense. Do not underestimate how close a good old desert-cameling can bring you to the brink of orgasm.
“I’m going to explode if we keep this up,” he croaks.
His eyes are lusty, his pupils obliterated. I scoot back on the bed and he glances up. “I like your bedroom. It smells like you—wildflowers.”
“And sunshine,” I joke.
He crawls over to me and I start unbuttoning my shirt, but he takes my hand.
“I’ve waited a long time for this. I want to savor every moment,” Pane growls.
I think I just got pregnant.
