We’re flirting, and it’s addictive.
It’s not like I’m imagining how good her mouth would look wrapped around my cock.
Or how hot and wet she’d feel when I threaded my hands in her hair while I thrust.
She hops up and heads for the hallway. “Don’t pause it. Fill me in when I get back.”
I watch for a few minutes, getting more and more drawn in without knowing why, before I hear her feet in the hallway.
“Check it out.” She holds up a handful of folders, fanning them out.
“Your application?”
“Almost done. Every section except for one.” As her gaze holds mine, my heart kicks harder in my chest.
“Well done.”
“I wouldn’t have done it without your help.”
“Yeah, you would’ve.”
“No, I wouldn’t. I’d have half assed it and then when I failed, I’d tell myself it was someone else’s fault.”
What kind of girl believes that about herself? Who told her it was true?
She tries every day. I see it with my own eyes.
“What’d I miss?” When she crosses to set the folders on the table, I shake myself.
“Oh. This woman was ringing the cowbell. Krystal.”
“Chrishell. She does that a lot lately. Doesn’t hurt she’s sleeping with the boss,” she adds, padding between me and the TV.
I shift in my seat. “How does that work out?”
Kat places a hand on her cocked hip. “Don’t know yet, but I’m optimistic. See, he might be the boss on paper, but she’s important to him. Probably the best thing he has going at the office.”
The screen is a mass of colors and background noise. I tuned it out the second Kat reappeared. “That shouldn’t matter.”
“It’s everything. She’s not powerless. If anything, she’s holding all the cards.”
The strip of fabric is gone from her face. She’s makeup free, fresh and pretty, and I could stare at her all night.
I lean closer. “Don’t see any blood. Looks like you’ll live.”
Kat laughs, dropping back next to me, close enough her bare thigh brushes my jeans. “It’s not a bandage, it’s for your pores.”
“What’s wrong with your pores?”
“Nothing, now.”
I reach for her chin and turn her toward me. “Nothing, ever.”
I can’t see a damn thing wrong with her nose.
Or her face.
Or her body.
Her shoulder is bare and smooth, and I want to run my lips over it to see if she’s as soft as she looks.
I shift closer, knocking the near-empty popcorn bowl with my knee.
She notices for the first time the dent I put in her snack. “Figured you guys would’ve gotten dinner.”
“We did.”
“You’re still hungry?” One knee is wedged between us, her other leg dangling off the side of the couch. “I could make you something.”
My gaze drags down her body, lingering on the curve of her breasts under her tank, the shape of her legs, her painted toenails.
“It’s not food I’m hungry for.”
Her expression fills with awareness. Anticipation.
Kat smiles slowly, looking way calmer than I feel. “I remembered something about the other night. About that tattoo I owe you.”
“Yeah.”
“You said I could put it anywhere.”
Fuck.
Me.
There’s no room for oxygen, only desire and adrenaline and whatever spell she’s casting on me that’s bigger than both.
“You pick a spot, you let me know.”
Her hands trail down my shoulders to my chest, like she’s assessing the landscape.
“Kat…”
“Shh. I’m checking out my options.”
I love her touching me.
I don’t ever want her to stop.
Her fingers trail up to my face, my cheek. My mouth.
I want to taste her again. To see if it’s as good as I remember, and to etch it in her memory.
If I only get to kiss her once more, she’s going to be thinking of it every night like I am.
17
KAT
This isn’t how I pictured it happening.
My gorgeous, off-limits single-dad boss walking in on me doing a face strip and looking at me like I’m all he needs.
Tonight, I was proud of getting the application finished, and I wouldn’t have done it without his help. I’m grateful and turned on and all of it blends in this heady emotional cocktail I’m not used to.
“I want you so much,” he breathes.
I press my hand to his chest and feel his heart hammer.
It’s wild and reckless. More than that, it’s familiar.
I’m thinking of the bathroom at the frat party, both the parts I remember and the ones I wish I did. His hungry lips and confident hands. The way Jules says he wanted to protect me and didn’t want to leave.
I might not know what’s going to happen with us, but tonight, I know what I want.
“Kiss me,” I murmur. “Pretend it’s the first time.”
It sounds like a demand, but it’s a plea.
Being around him knowing he wants me as much as I want him is killing me.
Our legs brush on the couch as he shifts closer.
I want his mouth on mine in a way I can’t forget. As if his touch can scorch away any trace of weakness in me, can make me feel whole and strong and new.
His lips brush mine.
He’s gentle at first, the way he’s caring with all things. His mouth is deliberate but not demanding.
He sinks his fingers into my hair, tugging at the ends.
I inhale and move against him. Our lips hitch and slide in that first-kiss way when you can’t get enough of someone but you don’t know what they like yet.
I want to know what turns him on. What gets him off. What makes him lie awake because he can’t sleep without thinking about doing it again, and again, and again.
He groans in my mouth as my hands slide down his chest to his abs.
“Kat.”
His raspy voice is one more heady turn-on.
“Yeah.”
The next pass of his mouth over mine is a delicious new angle, one that has me pressing even closer. My hard nipples rub his chest through our clothes.
“I want to touch you.”
My skin hums. “Do it.”
“Only for a minute.”
I smile against his mouth. “I’m not going to time you.”
His gentleness changes in a heartbeat.
Daniel’s hand fists in my hair as he crushes me to him, pinning my hands and breasts between us.
I sneak a hand beneath the bottom of his T-shirt and the warmth and smoothness of his skin, the softness of his hair contrasting with the rock solid beneath is addictive.
His lips drag away from mine to skim along my jaw, my throat.
He lowers me to the couch, his mouth never leaving my skin, his hot little trail continues down my shoulder, over the curve of my breast above my tank top.
He’s lighting fires everywhere. Ones that will smolder and leave ash, a permanent reminder of where he’s been.
When his lips close around my nipple through the fabric, pleasure explodes in my core. A moan slips out.