Total pages in book: 11
Estimated words: 10275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 51(@200wpm)___ 41(@250wpm)___ 34(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 10275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 51(@200wpm)___ 41(@250wpm)___ 34(@300wpm)
“Ten out of ten you’d ride with me again,” I say.
Fuck it. I can’t linger in this land of innuendo when I haven’t truly apologized. I try again, more serious this time. “Actually, I do know what’s gotten into me,” I say as the car slinks past the seventh floor.
“What’s that?”
I blow out a breath, girding myself for a little real talk. Maybe being blunt will defuse the sexual tension, making it easier to work with him. “It’s you. I met you a couple hours ago, and already I’m feeling possessive,” I say, shaking my head.
When Maddox locks eyes with me, his anger is gone, replaced by heat. “You were sounding possessive. But go figure—your jealousy pissed me off and turned me on at the same time.”
And that did not defuse anything.
Heat blazes in me as the floors slip by. We’re passing the sixth floor now.
Maddox steps backward, but it doesn’t feel like he’s moving away from me. Not when he reaches back, his hands gripping the bar tightly behind him, so tightly it seems like he’s holding his own wrists together. Like he’s offering himself to me.
My breath hitches. My chest catches fire.
He just bound himself.
For me.
I shake my head, trying to shake off my lust to no avail. “Now we’re back where we started.”
He tilts his chin like he’s saying game on. “Right where we shouldn’t be,” he says, reminding us of the stakes and the score.
“We definitely shouldn’t,” I add.
Maddox bites the corner of his lips briefly. “Then we’ll definitely pretend it didn’t happen.”
“What I’m about to do…?” I supply.
“Yes. That.”
I craved his permission, and with it, I close the distance and slide a thumb along his clean-shaven jaw. He leans into my touch, shuddering out a breath. “More…” His voice is stretched thin with desire.
I grab his tie, yank him closer to me. Our lips are inches apart. I’m vibrating with desire. “Since you asked nicely,” I rasp out, then I dip my mouth to his throat and press a hot kiss there.
He trembles. I lick his neck, tasting him. He gasps roughly, then stretches his neck, letting me indulge. My god, he’s the most sensual man I’ve ever touched.
I lift my face, then in a flash, I step between his thighs, kick one foot to the side, then the other, spreading his legs.
Kick, kick, spread.
His pupils dilate. “Do it,” he breathes out, urging me on. “Do anything.”
I’m a fuse box. Circuits trip, sparking hot and electric.
I reach behind him, grab his wrists, and yank his strong arms above his head. I’ve got him pinned just the way I like, just the way he likes, as the elevator descends.
I barely have any time to drive him wild, to kiss along his jaw, to lick his earlobe, to make him beg. I need hours, entire nights, whole weeks to do the million things I want to do to him. So I seize what I can and crush my lips to his in a hot and demanding kiss.
Maddox opens pliantly, his mouth an invitation for my tongue. Harder and rougher, I kiss him, his ocean scent drifting through my mind. I tug his bottom lip between my teeth, biting as I kiss but keeping my body at bay for a few more seconds.
Then I double down on danger. I slam against him, our cocks meeting through our clothes.
Holy fuck.
Maddox LeGrande is packing some serious heat. I rub my hips ruthlessly against his, our dicks grinding together. It’s mind-bendingly good, and if I spend another risky second making out with him, I will never want to stop.
I break away, breathing hard. I drag the back of my hand across my mouth as if I can erase the power of that kiss.
The promise of it too.
Panting, he drops his hands to his sides. His lips are bruised. His eyes gleam. He looks thoroughly fuckable, and I’ll have to find some self-control and find it fast. But it’s slipping through my fingers as I stare at the smoldering man.
“Your lips are incredible,” I murmur as the elevator stops in the parking garage.
He’s quiet at first, one elegant hand sliding up to adjust his burgundy tie. As the doors open, he steps out first, barely glancing my way, saying, “It was great meeting you. I’ll email you tomorrow about the next steps.”
He strides into the garage, leaving me and my hard-on aching for him.
I slam a hand against the open doors, needing a moment or three to clear my head before I can put one foot in front of the other.
Somehow, and I’m sure it’s a miracle, I remember how to walk.
I remember, too, that Maddox is about to become a big part of my life. I can’t fuck up this relationship with him.
I don’t go to my own car. I walk straight to his side. I need to know something, and the question is fueled by thoughts of both business and pleasure.