Savior (Savages 3)

I swallowed hard, believing him. It certainly seemed like they were capable of that. I nodded tightly. "Okay. I got it. Thank you for your concern. You can go."

The side of his lips tipped up as his head ducked down slightly, our foreheads almost touching as his hands left the counter and rested on my hips. "Is that what you really want?"

At this point, my nether regions were seriously threatening to get up and detach themselves from my body if I didn't inform him that, no, that wasn't what I wanted. That, in fact, what I wanted was for him to grab me and give it to me hot and hard right there in my kitchen.

I wet my lips and fought to clear my mind. "No."

"No?" he asked, ducking his head lower and I could feel his warm breath on my neck, making my head tilt the other way slightly to invite more of the sensation.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "No."

"What do you want then, babygirl?" he asked, his lips close to my ear, his words making my sex clench hard.

God, I needed to pull it together.

"I want you to order dinner while I go get out of my work clothes. Then I want you to tell me everything you know about the Third Street gang."

Whoa. Where the hell did that come from? That was not, was absolutely not what I wanted. That was like the last thing I wanted. First, I wanted some good, hot sex. Then I wanted him to get the hell out of my business.

Paine moved backward, brows furrowed slightly, like he was just as surprised as I was. God, was I that obvious about my sexual frustration? I felt like a dog in heat for chrissakes. "Chinese or Italian?"

"What?" I asked, my brain somehow taking that dog in heat thought and turning it into a doggy style against the kitchen island thought.

"For dinner," he clarified, smiling in a way that made me think that maybe, just maybe, he knew exactly what my dirty brain was thinking.

"Oh, um... Italian," I decided, finding my common sense enough to plant my hands on his very solid, very nice chest and push him back a foot. Space, I needed it. A few feet, yards, miles. "There's, ah, a menu for Famiglia on top of the microwave. Order whatever you want. Everything is good. I'll, ah, be right back," I said, not chancing a look at him as I all but ran from the room and stormed up the stairs.

Collapsing against the inside of my bedroom door, I took a couple deep breaths.

"What is wrong with me?" I demanded in a whisper as I pushed off the door and pulled off my shirt.

It wasn't that I was unused to arousal or even frustration. I was a grown woman who had a healthy sex life when I wasn't being a workaholic like I had been for the better part of the last six months. But this felt different, stronger, all consuming. I couldn't be within five feet of him without feeling like a puddle of need. And true, it had been a while. I had a reasonably high sex drive and my body was humming with a need I had denied it for a long time. That being said, I had gone a six month stretch before without my imagination making me picture all the ways some random hot guy could screw me on the surfaces of my kitchen.

I finally understood all the nights when my girlfriends would tell me with a small amount of guilt about going home with a one-night stand because they just 'couldn't help themselves'. It didn't make sense to me then, control being an important part of my life. But it made sense then as I stripped out of my clothes that felt like they were chafing my over sensitive skin, my breasts heavy, nipples half-hardened, my panties damp. And I wasn't even in the room with him anymore.

I threw myself backward onto my bed in my underwear, running my hand down my belly and slipping it inside my panties. I wasn't that girl. I wasn't some kind of exhibitionist who got off on touching herself while a clueless man stood one floor below her ordered dinner for her. But that being said, if I didn't get some relief, ease some of the need, I was going to go back down in that kitchen and let him take me any way he wanted me. And that, well, that could not happen.

I closed my eyes tight as I ran my fingers over my clit, already feeling halfway to an orgasm. I couldn't come without a story, without a fantasy playing out before my eyes. So, despite knowing it would only complicate things, an image of Paine popped into my brain, opening my bedroom door, seeing me touching myself and knowing it was about him. Then he would pull off his shirt in that sexy way that only men did, reaching behind their back and pulling it forward then off, discarding it to the floor as he reached for his button and zip as my eyes took in his strong chest, the deep indentations of his abdominal muscles. Then my eyes would dip lower as his pants fell to the floor, eyes lavishing over every glorious inch of his hard dick. Then he would cross the room to me, his body vibrating with alpha male certainty, with primal promise of a pleasure I had never experienced before. He would kneel at the edge of the bed, knees on either side of my thighs, keeping me a willing captive.