He nodded. "Take all the seconds you need."
I looked at him over the rim of the glass. He still wasn't looking at me with desire.
What's wrong with you?
You came here to do this. You picked the dress and shaved your legs. You agreed to the deal. Get out of your head, Sabrina.
I put the glass down. I walked around the island.
He set his glass down and turned to face me. But didn't move toward me. I walked the four steps between. I stopped a foot from him, stood on the tip of my toes, put my hands on the front of his shirt, and kissed him.
He was still for a beat. Then his hand came up to my jaw, and his other hand went to the small of my back, and he kissed me back slowly. He had all night with me.
He pulled back.
"Sabrina. We don't have to…if you're not…we don't have to do this if…"
"Shhh… don't say anything, Mr. Cross."
I kissed him.
His hand at my jaw moved to my hair. His hand at the small of my back became his arm around me, lifting me a half inch off the floor, and I locked one arm around his shoulders to let him. He walked us backward — the corner of the island grazed my hip, and he turned us, his mouth not leaving mine, and we were in the hallway.
There was a button on his shirt that my fingers were currently working on. The button wasn't cooperating. He laughed against my mouth.
"Let me."
I smacked his hand away. "No."
"Sabrina, I can —- "
"I have it."
He undid the next two buttons of his own shirt with one hand, which I'd have admired more if I hadn't been busy with the first one, and then he undid the rest while I was still on the first one. Then he stopped helping me, put both hands back on me, and let me have my pyrrhic victory over the cuff link.
His shirt came off.
I took a moment to appreciate the half-naked, well-defined sight of him. He looked ethereal as if God took his sweet time sculpting each part of his body.I spread my hands over his chest. His hair was soft, chest full and defined. Abs as clear as day. He obviously worked out. He was obviously delicious. My mouth and other places watered.
We made it through a doorway. My back hit the wall, his hand in my hair, my dress halfway up my thigh because his hand took a detour there.
The red dress came up the rest of the way and over my head. His mouth came back to mine before the dress hit the floor.
He turned me around and put my front against the wall, the cool of the paint surprising the breath right out of me. His hands were at my hips, and his mouth was at the back of my neck, and his skin was hot against my back. I didn't have any room in my head for anything that wasn't him.
His mouth went still at the back of my neck.
"Sabrina."
"Mm-hmm?"
His hands stilled at my hips. "Are you sure?"
I let out half a breath against the paint. "Cross, if you ask me one more time, I'm going home."
He laughed against my neck.
I moaned when he slid into me. His other hand found mine against the wall. His fingers laced through mine.
