I chuckle once he’s out of the room, relieved there wasn’t another dustup.
“He thought I wouldn’t take him to school.”
“See how right I was?” Amusement dances in her gorgeous brown eyes. “I told you, once he got to know you, he’d warm up. You bonded over baseballs and robo-moles. Congrats.”
“What would I do without you?” Even though I roll my eyes at her, it’s too real a question. “Want a glass of wine? That’s the one thing missing with our pizza.”
“Sure.” She goes into the living room and lets out a dramatic sigh as she falls back on the couch.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Just tired,” she whispers, yawning again.
I hit the kitchen to pour a glass of wine and something harder for myself—a scotch, maybe.
“Drink your wine,” I tell her once I’ve returned with our drinks. “It’s a nice sendoff to pleasant dreams.”
Her fingers curl around the stem of her glass.
“Thank you,” she says. “For everything this weekend, Mag.”
She pulls herself up, so she’s no longer reclining across the couch. Now she’s sitting up, sipping her wine, bringing back memories of that kiss I stole in Phoenix.
I drop to the couch beside her.
From the way her dark hair encases her ivory face to those big brown eyes, she’s beautiful.
Mind, body, and soul.
You’d have to gouge my eyes out to get them off her.
Brina’s eyes meet mine, too. Neither of us look away.
“What’s with the staring contest?” She laughs finally. “You’re freaking me out.”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Funny, I don’t believe you.” She brings a hand to her face and pats her chin and both cheeks. “Do I have something in my teeth?”
“No, you’re just fucking ravishing.”
She melts on the spot, leaning forward and drawing in a deep breath. “Thank you. I’m not sure it’s true, but thanks, charmer.”
She finishes the wine, sets the glass on the table, and lays her head on my shoulder.
I move my scotch to the other hand and slip an arm around her.
No denying there’s something so cute and innocent about her tucked under my arm that my lips are drawn to her head. I plant a kiss in her hair, inhaling her scent, amazed at how sweet she still smells despite a long day at the hospital and that lively pizza shop.
She looks up slowly. Truffle-dark eyes gaze into mine.
Brina tilts her chin up like she’s waiting. Expecting. Needing.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I don’t break our shared gaze.
“Why?” Her brow furrows.
“We work together,” I say. “Whenever things get back to normal, we’ll have to explain—”
“Then don’t do it,” she whispers. She bites her bottom lip, reminding me how juicy it is.
“Tease.” I allow my lips to find hers.
The last thing I’m going to do tonight when I can savor her again is worry about office fucking code.
Her tongue traces my bottom lip, coaxing out my inner beast, and then it’s all liquid warmth in my mouth.
I swear to God, I could kiss her until the sun goes out.
I’m that addicted to Sabrina Bristol.
Cradling her face with one hand, I let my other hand catch in her hair, loving how different shades of soft brown flicker in the dim light.
Apparently, I’m not the only one getting a second wind.
She comes up on her knees and wraps her arms around my torso with such force, she pushes me backward. One knee swings over me.
Settling into my lap, her legs twine around my waist, fused to me. Her limbs are tied around me like fleshy ropes, and I can’t think of any damn place I’d rather be.
“Brina,” I growl, running my hand down her neck as she leans down for a kiss.
Her lips are on mine, the side of my face, running down my neck.
My dick shouldn’t even be functional after how hard we went at it the past two nights, but it’s back with a vengeance, stretching my trousers.
Every time the soft slick heat of her mouth runs over my skin, the ridge in my jeans she’s pressed against becomes harder, longer, more insistent.
God. I’ve wanted her the whole frigging day.
Why?
This isn’t the man who rarely comes back for seconds, much less tenths.
Fucking hell, I need her, and that smile digging into my lips tells me she knows it.
My arms close around her back, kneading my fingers into her.
She presses the core of her body over that ever-growing hardness, whimpering when she feels me.
“Oh,” she sighs.
I pull her closer. Her breath moves her body against mine. I lock her into place with my arms.
“Brina?” I whisper, letting out my own guttural sigh when she grinds into me again.
“Hmm?”
“You’re ready for the bedroom,” I say, digging my fingers into her angelic ass.
“Only if you promise to do evil things to me,” she whispers back, giving me another forceful peck.
This woman. I wonder which one of us will keel over first if this keeps going.
I move one arm away from her back, running a finger down her cheek.
“I don’t know about evil,” I growl. “What about slow? Tender? What if we let our souls do the fucking tonight?”
Slow? Tender? Who the hell have I turned into with these flowery words?
“Please take me to bed—I mean, your room,” she says.
My lips brush hers again, thick with sheer desire. Our tongues mingle, and I press her as tight to my chest as I can.
“What’s so wrong with my bed?” I ask, giving her a wink.
“Nothing, I just didn’t want to say it. Your assistant, begging you to bed her...”
Leave it to my Brina to be completely blunt, and worried over nothing.
I laugh, kissing up her neck in a line that ends in a nip of teeth.
“Pretend I said it first because that’s where I want you. Badly.”
This time when she rocks into me, I arch up, grinding against her hot wetness through my pants.
“Oh,” she says. “Oh, God. Then let’s get moving. Fast.”
Placing both hands under her lush round ass, I stand with Brina still fused to me. Her legs lock around my waist, and she clings to me with her hands around my neck.
I carry her into my room and kick the door shut behind us. I lay her on the bed, planning to undress her like a late Christmas gift I want to savor.
Most years, Christmas is a flicker that’s quickly forgotten.
The one that just passed might have been the darkest yet, but there’s one present I know I’ll want to keep.
My plans are foiled when her hands frantically grab the bottom of my shirt, pull it over my head, and then drop to the button around my waist.
My slacks fall, and I shake them off my ankles, only to haul her up with a bristling hunger.
I need her fucking naked, right fucking now.
Her shirt flies across the room.
I’m about to lock my arms around her back and tear off her bra, but it’s too late. By the time I register the thought, she’s shed it, and it’s already airborne behind her.
I lock my lips over hers, claiming what’s mine, letting my hands roam the bare parts of her body. These fingers still want to memorize every inch, every ripple, every soft convulsion when they’re in her, feeling her come like a fever.