"As much as I enjoy you saying that," she says, voice going a little breathy, "we both know I look like a walking disaster. I need to clean up. My makeup is a mess, and I constantly smell like booze after my shifts. I should—"
She doesn't smell like booze. I breathe in without meaning to, and all I get is her. Something warm and sweet underneath whatever the casino left behind. Something that makes my mouth water.
She squeaks when I grab her hand. I wrap my fingers around her wrist instead, and there—her pulse. Thudding hard and fast against my fingertips.
That's good, right? Fast is good?
Painfully slowly, I lift her hand and watch her face the whole time. Despite being hesitant on following what feels natural, that option feels the best to avoid fucking this moment up.
I want her to take my feelings seriously.
Her eyes raise to mine, and her breathing shifts. Her chest rises and falls like she just ran a sprint.
It’s impossible to wrap my mind around what I do to this woman.
"Where's your shower?" I keep my voice even for her, but my body's already gone rough. There's a stirring low in my chest that's shifted downward, and the plan playing out in my head has already done its damage. One brief thought of cleaning up, too. Specifically with her. Just like that, the blood in my body rushes straight to my cock.
Can she tell?
Bunny blinks at me, her lips parted, but no sounds coming out. Her cheeks are flushed now—really flushed, spreading down her neck—and I notice for the first time that her nipples are hard beneath her shirt. Two small points that have suddenly sucked me in.
Oh. Fuck. Maybe she’s as bad as I am, letting her mind run wild. Is that what’s happening? Have I turned her on? To the point of making her speechless, by the looks of it.
I’m going to need to bring her back down to the present to get my answer.
Releasing her wrist and picking her up does the trick. She's light as a feather and easy to get my hands beneath her. Her legs wrap around my waist without me having to ask, and the second they lock behind my back, I realize I never want to put her down.
I've got Bunny in my arms. Is this real?
"Smoke!" She gasps my name, clings to me like she thinks I'd drop her. Not a chance. I'd break my own arms before I let her fall. Then she laughs, and that's the moment it hits me.
No matter what has to happen, this woman needs to be mine.
"Shower?" I try again, my voice growing more hoarse by the second.
I adjust my grip on her. When she shifts against me, damn, I try to angle my hips back without making it obvious. Shifting any lower, and she'll discover what she does to me.
Bunny bites her bottom lip. Just chews on it, looking at me like she's trying to solve a puzzle. She has no idea what she's doing to me. No idea. Finally, she leans in and brushes her mouth against mine so soft it's almost not there.
"That little hallway," she whispers against my lips. "Door on the left."
Sounds simple enough.
Then she sighs against my mouth and takes charge of the kiss, and it's a miracle I don't walk us into every wall between here and there. I don't know her home. I don't care. I'm more focused on discovering more of her mouth instead.
Her small sighs are delicious enough to make my head spin, and when she lifts her hands from my shoulders and buries her fingers in my hair—fuck, I want her to touch me everywhere. This is barely the start, and I'm already gone.
We take a detour against one of the walls along the way. The way she arches into me, the way her fingers tighten in my hair, the way she makes this tiny sound in the back of her throat when my hips press her against the surface…
I’m starting to understand the appeal of pleasure with another person now. God, whatever happens tonight can’t be a one-and-done deal.
I pull back before I lose what's left of my control.
Her bathroom is tiny. I feel like I only take a few steps inside before I'm taking up all the space. When I set her down, it feels even smaller. Her back is to the sink, and there's barely a foot between us.
"I'll have to show you my apartment," I say, mostly because I’m already imagining plopping her on the counter I have in my bathroom, compared to the missing one in hers.
I busy my hands by shoving off my vest. Then I grab the hem of my shirt and tug it over my head. The air hits my skin, and I hear her gasp before I even drop the shirt. Then her hands are on me, touching as she pleases.
