Page 61 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

“I want you to fuck me,” I confess, my voice husky. “Just, not yet.”

“Do you want me to stop?"

“No,” I say. “But I need you to.”

His hand slides out of my nightgown and grips my side, his palm covering nearly my entire rib cage, fingers spread wide. His forehead rests against my temple. We’re both breathing hard.

“Can we just kiss?” I sound like a fucking teenager.

His hand tightens around me, while his other hand lifts to my face, tracing along my jaw before kissing me. It’s softer this time, holding himself back. I inch closer and wrap my arms around his neck. He gathers me with both hands and drags me against him. It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t been with a woman in two years. This man knows exactly what he’s doing.

I feel his cock hard against me, and it takes everything in me not to reach down between us and touch it. I could wrap my hand around it. Stroke it for him. He’s holding back because I asked him to. If I did that, I know there’d be no turning back.

So I keep kissing him instead. I let his hands roam down my back, fingers tracing the curve of my spine through the thin fabric of my nightgown. The wetness between my thighs soaks through my panties, but I push it aside, focusing on the way his lips feel on mine and the way he holds me like he doesn’t want to let go.

A loud vibration cuts through everything.

“Dammit,” he growls into my mouth.

“We probably needed something to stop us anyway,” I say as his phone goes off again on the nightstand.

He groans and rolls away, grabbing it.

“Yeah,” he says, clearly irritated.

He gets up, phone pressed to his ear.

He looks back at me, covering the receiver. “I’ll be right back, Doll.”

“Okay.”

I sit up against the headboard as soon as he leaves the room, reaching for my phone. It’s almost midnight. Who is calling him this late? Especially on a Sunday. He’ll say it’s work, but that doesn’t make sense. Not really.

I scroll absently, my thoughts growing louder the longer I sit here. Did he really end his engagement? And why did I not question that more?

Cool, you ended your engagement—come over and sleep in my bed and feel me up. Totally normal behavior. No red flags. I drop my head back against the wall.

What is actually wrong with me?

“Hey,” Michael says as he walks back in. “You didn’t need to stay awake.”

“I wasn’t, I was—“ I glance at my phone. “Scrolling. Very important.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “Mm.”

“What took you so long?”

“Shit at work.”

I squint at him as he climbs back into bed. “You keep saying that.”

He looks at me.

“I’m just saying,” I add, shifting onto my side, “what kind of job has people calling you this late on a Sunday?”

Chapter 23

Michael