So Wrong It's Good: A Forbidden Romance

She swallowed, heard the emotion and truth in his voice, and knew that although he was drunk, right now he was being genuine. “I’m glad everything is working out, Reese.”

He moved an inch closer, reached out, and, shocking the hell out of her, he snagged a piece of her hair. He stared at that strand, rubbed it between his fingers, and finally lifted his gaze back to her face.

“Is everything okay?”

He didn’t answer her right away, and she swore her heart stopped beating as she stared at his face, took in the sight of the dark scruff along his jaw, and the way he was so masculine and raw left her breathless. She didn’t know how long they stood there, her question hanging in the air, but then he finally leaned forward slightly.

“Yeah, everything is good, Lake. Everything is really fucking good.”

Her heart thundered harder as she watched him lower his head toward her. Oh God. Is this really happening? She didn’t move, couldn’t move. This was what she had wanted for far longer than she had really ever let herself understand or comprehend. A twinge of fear mixed with her desire, causing her to understand that this could be construed as wrong in some people’s eyes.

His lips were now a hair’s breadth away from hers, and the smell of whiskey swirled around her and seemed to make her intoxicated as well. Of course his being intoxicated played a big part in why he was being so forward, but she didn’t have the same excuse. She was sober, stone cold sober, and yet she wasn’t stopping this.

“Yesterday I couldn’t stop staring at you, Lake, couldn’t stop looking at the lushness of your mouth, the way you are so fucking beautiful,” he said close to her lips. He lifted his hand and touched her bottom lip, stroking it, as if mesmerized. “And then I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to kiss you, stroke you, have my mouth on every part of your body.”

She was so wet, and her clit throbbed in time with her heart.

“I shouldn’t want you, not because you aren’t drop dead gorgeous, so fucking smart and sweet, but because of the many other things that stand in the way of this.”

Yeah, she knew what he meant, knew her age, the family, all of that could cause problems. But she didn’t want this to end.

“But I’m not going to stop,” he said, his gaze still on her lips. “I can’t.” He looked at her, his eyes at half-mast, almost drugged-like. “I want you, Lake.” He slid his hand over her shoulder, down her arm, over her belly, and finally stopped between her legs. She was frozen, stunned that he’d touched her so intimately.

The move was so sudden, so powerful, that she actually pressed her body, her pussy, down on his hand, seeking more pressure.

“That’s it,” he said softly, leaning a little closer to her mouth until she felt his lips rub along hers. He pushed the material of her lounge pants down and cupped her pussy again. She still wore her panties.

He started moving his fingers gently over her clit and pussy lips, having a gasp leaving her at the amount of pleasure coursing through her. In an instant he had her panties pushed down her thighs. When he had his bare hand on her exposed slit her toes curled and a small cry left her.

His fingers were thick, big and long, and his skin so very hot.

He moved them into her room by forcing her to walk backward using his body. When they were inside he closed the door, pushed her back up against the wall, and breathed out heavily.

“I want you so fucking badly, baby, even if it seems a little wrong.” He took possession of her mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue was like silk against hers, demanding, probing, dominating. And the hand he still had between her thighs was like fire, scorching her, inflaming her, and having her feel like she’d burn alive.

He used his thumb to rub circles against her throbbing clit while he kissed her. This kiss was fierce and urgent. It was exactly how she felt at the moment.

He moved his other hand over her breast and cupped the mound. Her nipples were hard as rock, and she knew he could feel it through the thin material of her shirt. He pinched the turgid peak between his thumb and forefinger, and she gasped against his mouth.

“Does it feel good, Lake? Do I make you feel good?” he murmured against her lips as he continued to pull at the sensitive tissue. She nodded because she couldn’t find her voice. “Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how good I make you feel.” He kissed a path across the side of her face and down her neck. She couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer, not when his mouth on her flesh felt like fire.