“I don’t want the blonde. I want what’s right in front of me.” He slipped two fingers under my chin and nudged my head up so our eyes met. “I’m goddamn crazy about you, Autumn. And I know you feel the same way about me. What’s it going to take for you to finally admit it?”
I tasted salt in my throat and swallowed hard to fight the tears I knew were on their way. “I can’t, Donovan.”
He stepped closer. “You can. I don’t know what’s got you so afraid, but whatever it is, I’ll help you get through it.”
I could handle being jealous. I could handle him being jealous and angry, but I couldn’t handle him being so damn amazing and caring. Tears brimmed my eyes.
“Donovan…”
He took another step closer and cupped my cheeks. A warm tear spilled over and started to roll down my face, but his thumb caught it. “I don’t know what else to say to convince you. So I want to show you.” He looked back and forth between my eyes. “Stop me now if you’re not okay with that.”
My heart pounded in my chest. My head was a damn mess of conflicting emotions, but my body wasn’t. It wanted what was on the verge of happening more than I could ever remember wanting anything—so much so that my lips parted, and my tongue slid along my mouth to wet them before I could even catch up to think about what they were preparing for. Donovan watched intently. Even though my body had basically just rolled out the red carpet and invited him to kiss me, he still gave me time to change my mind.
He leaned closer, inch by painstaking inch, until we were nose to nose, and my inhales became his exhales. One of his big hands slipped from my cheek to trail its way around to the back of my neck. Donovan looked into my eyes one last time, and even though he’d said I’d need to stop him, I saw a hint of hesitation. In that moment, the panic I’d been feeling about him kissing me suddenly turned into panic that he wouldn’t. So I nodded.
The biggest smile crossed his face, just before he crushed his lips to mine. Our tongues eagerly collided. It had been close to a year since we’d kissed, yet our bodies needed no time to get reacquainted. Donovan’s hand at my neck slid down to my ass, and with one quick hitch, he hoisted me into the air. My legs wrapped around his waist, and he turned and walked us until my back hit the wall. Donovan grinded between my parted legs, and a hand wound into my hair and yanked my head back, exposing my neck. He groaned as he kissed his way from my lips to my chin and sucked along my neck.
“Fuck,” he growled. “Do you feel it? You must. It’s clawing from the inside trying to get out.” He took my mouth again.
Nothing had ever tasted so good or felt so right. Absolutely nothing. It was impossible to deny the physical connection, even if I kept denying the emotional one.
I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that—kissing and grabbing, groping and grinding—but I never wanted it to end. Everything felt so very right, so perfect. Though you know what they say about all good things…
They get interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Donovan…”
CHAPTER 16
* * *
Autumn
“Donovan…” I nudged at his chest. “Did you hear that?”
He mumbled through our joined lips. “Say my name again. I fucking love it.”
“No…Donovan…” I pulled back. “Someone knocked.”
He cupped my neck firmly and tried to bring me closer again. “That’s just my heart pounding against my ribs.”
Could I have been imagining it? I didn’t think so. But I’d been so engrossed in the moment, anything was possible. I listened carefully for a few heartbeats, but the only sound was our heavy breathing.
“See?” Donovan said. He nudged my neck closer to him once more. “Now give me that mouth.”
But just as our lips met, another knock came, this time louder. “Is someone in there?”
I gasped at the sound of the man’s voice. Donovan quickly covered my mouth with one hand and held his pointer up to his lips with the other. My eyes were wide as he leaned his head toward the door and spoke. “Occupied. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Sorry. No rush.”
Donovan’s eyes returned to mine. He again made the shhh sign with his finger. I nodded, and he removed his hand and set me down on my feet before guiding me to the far side of the bathroom and turning on the faucet.
He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Kyle Andrews. He’s a partner—decent guy. But eats lunch every day with Dickson.”
I felt the color drain from my face. “What are we going to do?”