I frown. “I’m always serious.”
Bates captures my wrists in his big, trap-like fingers, and he guides my hands to his mouth so he can kiss the knuckles on each one. “You’re a very sweet girl, Lana.”
My face warms, and my chest is forced to deal with breathlessness and a rocketing heartbeat. I’m glad to be seated when my knees begin to wobble — even my smile feels shaky.
“Your lips touched me,” I whisper, trying to process such a phenomenon.
Bates gazes into my eyes and presses one of my palms to his cheek. His beard is somehow both softandrough to the touch, and when he gently presses his lips to the inside of my wrist, I could pass out from how lightheaded it makes me.
“I… might need to be lying down if you’re going to keep doing that,” I warn him.
“That can be arranged.”
I exhale roughly and nod my head. “Do you think you could carry me? You’re very swoon-worthy, and I don’t trust my legs to keep me upright. Plus, I think being carried by you would feel amazing.”
Color rises in his cheeks, and for a big, burly, deeply gritty-looking guy, he looks so fucking cute I could die.
“I’d be honored,” he says in a tone so serious I legitimately fear falling off my chair with happiness.
Bates places my hands gently back on the table before he slides out of the booth to stand. He lingers a moment, towering over me, then he reaches for me and pulls me up and into his arms, holding me close and pressing his face to my hair as I rest my head on his shoulder. He audibly breathes me in and emits a soft rumble. “You smell good.”
I shiver in his arms and am surprised that pleasing him with my fragrance could make me feel this excited. Does it work the same in reverse? Is this a social convention I’m unaware of? I tilt my face toward his neck and run the tip of my nose alonghis skin, scenting him. The rumble of approval in my chest is automatic, and the raw, masculine scent of him makes me want to squirm.
“You smell good too,” I whisper. “Take me somewhere you can kiss more than my hands.”
Bates mutters some expletives under his breath and picks up his pace. He easily holds me to him with one arm while he hits the button for the elevator. Once we’re inside and the doors close, he shuffles me higher, until I’m thrust up against the mirrored glass. He guides my legs around him as he presses his body to mine, and then he takes my mouth in a hungry, demanding kiss.
His lips are soft, but he’s assaulting me with them in a way that makes me want to be devoured. His beard tickles when it’s not rough against my skin, and he smells and tastes of beer and nuts, and something sweet I can’t put my finger on. I tug him closer, hoping to find out.
He moans against my battered lips and rubs against me between my legs — right where I want to grind against him — as if he’s feeling all the same things I am.
It’s all so unfamiliar, and yet my body knows just what to do. When I open my mouth to gasp, his tongue pushes inside, invading me. And I’ve never wanted to be invaded more. I welcome the intrusion, curling my tongue around his to invite him deeper.
The elevator doors open, but Bates doesn’t stop kissing me. He doesn’t care. He’d rather see how fast and ragged he can make me breathe. I’m panting, and I haven’t even done any exercise. The elevator doors close and open again. Close and open.
Eventually Bates groans and eases his face back from mine. He sucks his bottom lip as he stares at me, and his pupils are so dilated there’s barely any gray irises left to be seen around theedges. His rough fingers stroke my cheek, and his thumb drags across my pulsating lips as he curses under his breath again.
He glances toward the doors as they open again to reveal that we’re still in the lobby.
“Helps if I hit a button,” he mutters, and smacks his palm at the glowing dial for the third floor.
“Yes. That’s how it works,” I agree before clearing my throat. I sound strange to my ears. Husky.
Bates smiles at me, and the twinkle in his eyes makes me want to squirm, just like the rest of him.
I tilt my pelvis against him to get more of the friction that feels so good. His gaze drops to my lips, and he quickly dips his head to kiss me again. More gently this time. Not as deep.
I run my fingers over the short bristles along the sides of his head and then push them through the longer hair on top that he keeps slicked back. My fingers curl into the strands, and I use the leverage to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. He gives me a low, warning sort of sound, but he gives me what I want, so I loosen my grip and pat his head better in case I’ve hurt him.
The elevator doors open with ading, and I’m wrenched away from the wall. I feel half-naked without it behind me, and I break the kiss to look around for cover.
“More,” Bates demands, directing my mouth back to his by guiding my head with one of his huge hands. He presses me against a new wall, and I melt into his body again as he plunders my mouth for whatever he’s seeking.
Take it all.
Bates does his best to do just that, and it feels amazing. His big man hands make me feel ultra-feminine, and I help him un-tuck my shirt with sharp tugs, so those calloused palms can slide up and under it. He yanks down my bra, gliding his expert touch over my breasts in a seductive graze that leaves me desperate for him to explore every inch of skin that I have.
Twisting my face sideways to break the kiss, I drag in hungry breaths. “More.Please.”
