“Yes,” she answered through the open doorway.

“How is good old Crossland?” I tugged a little too hard at my jacket, straining but not breaking the stitches on the buttons as I threw it off, then started on the buttons of my shirt.

“Great,” she snapped back amid the sound of rustling. “Thanks for asking.” Pretty sure I heard her mutter something like a hell of a lot more mature than you are right now, but the sound was muffled as I slid my shirt off.

I’d half expected the protective asshole to show up in Charleston after he’d found us on her couch.

My dick twitched and swelled at the memory, turning my semi into a full hard-on. Fuck, she’d been so soft, so wet, so ready. Not that he hadn’t done me a favor by interrupting us or anything. I was already addicted to Bristol’s kiss, her smile, the sound of her fucking voice, and if I’d taken it any further, it wouldn’t have gone well for either of us in the long run.

We were a disaster just waiting to happen.

“Was he pissed?” I asked, undoing the top button of my pants since I’d have to tuck the new shirt in.

“About?” she asked, her voice coming closer.

“About finding you in my lap about twenty seconds after you finished riding my hand.”

She stepped through the doorway, shirt in one and tie in the other. Her lips were parted, and color rose in her cheeks, but she blinked away her surprise. “Cross knows I’m an adult who gets to make her own decisions. He also doesn’t give me shit about me giving out my number, unlike some guys I know. Why exactly do you care, anyway?” She arched a brow in blatant challenge, but her expression shifted as her stare drifted down my body, heating my skin with every inch she studied.

“Would you care?” I countered, my muscles flexing as if her fingers were stroking my skin instead of her gaze. “If I was downstairs at that party, handing out my number to a woman, would you care?”

“I’m not supposed to.” She moved forward, laying the shirt and tie over the back of a dining room chair before stopping only a few feet from me.

“That’s not a no.” My blood thickened as I took in the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath she took. Fuck, I wanted her. I wanted her beneath me, on top of me, on her knees before me—wanted her in every possible way.

“It’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything.”

“Exactly, and we don’t even live in the same state so we both know that will never happen, anyway.”

“You don’t think long distance relationships work?” She cocked her head to the side.

“Hell no. They’re more a distraction than anything, and besides, this isn’t a relationship, remember?” To be with someone and only be able to see them every few weeks was my idea of hell, not love.

“This…” She shook her head slowly. “This was a bad idea.”

“Which part?” It damn-near killed me, but I held my ground, keeping the distance between us. Last time I’d been the one to pull her against me, the one to make the move. “Signing me to a contract? Flying down for tonight’s event?”

“Being alone with you.” She swallowed. “I swear, every time I’m near you, I either want to throttle you or fuck you.”

My cock was on board with the second suggestion. Was it a bad idea? Absolutely. Was I beyond caring? Yep.

“And which are you leaning toward right now?” I shoved my hands in my pockets like that would somehow help me keep my hands to myself.

She took a step forward, then lifted her fingers to trace the line of my abs as she looked up at me from under her thick, black lashes. “Which do you think?”

“Oh no, Duchess. This time you’re going to tell me what you want.” I nearly groaned at the featherlight touch. I was that starved for her.

“What do you want?” she countered, hooking her finger in my waistband and taking another step. One more and we’d be flush.

“Neither of us can answer a straight question, can we?” I muttered, locking eyes with her. “Fine. Just so we’re clear. I want to carry you into that bedroom, strip off this gown, and make you come on my tongue.”

“Oh.” Her breath hitched, and she stared at my mouth for the length of a heartbeat before dragging her gaze back to mine.

My pulse leaped.

“I want to hear you scream my name and not worry about having to muffle the sound because we’re in your office. I want to lock the door so no one else can interrupt. I want to fuck you until both our voices are raw and neither of us has the energy to move, and then I want to start all over again.” Slowly, I took one hand from my pocket and cupped her jaw, skimming my thumb over her lips. “Then I want to see how my cock looks sliding between these perfect lips. I want to take you in every possible way until this is out of our systems. Scare you yet?”

Tags: Samantha Whiskey Carolina Reapers Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net