Back In The Bedroom (The Wrong Bed #29)(37)

“You think I don’t feel anything about any of that?”

“Unless you tell me, how would I know?”

He stared at her.

“Look,” she said, relenting. “I know some people have trouble getting in touch with their feelings. It’s not easy, but you need to vent or—” She broke off when he picked up a file on his desk and flung it at the opposite wall, where it opened and rained papers down to the floor. “W-what was that?”

“A vent,” he said roughly. “How was that?”

“Um…” She swallowed. “Good. Really…good.”

“That’s how I feel about what happened to us,” he said. “That’s how I feel about what happened to you.” He grabbed her and she expected anger or maybe a hard, thorough kiss, but instead he put one light, gentle hand over her throat, where her bruises had started to fade, the other at the small of her back, nudging her closer.

Her entire body softened to fit his.

“If I could go back and erase that night, I would.” His hands were soft and tender, his eyes utterly fierce. “I’d like to make sure you never got hurt again. Are you getting how strongly I feel about that, Tess?”

She nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

“Good.” He pulled her hard against him, putting his mouth very close to hers. “I blame myself for that night. And I’m going to have to blame myself for this as well, as there’s no one to point a finger at. I hate it when that happens.”

And he closed his mouth over hers.





14




HE WAS KISSING HER, he was finally kissing her, fierce and demanding. Tessa gave it back to him, gave him all she had and when he came up for air, she couldn’t help it, she bit his lower lip.

With an oath, he came back at her, his big hands holding her head still for another long, ravishing, deep kiss. It was amazing, it was earth-shattering and she literally shook with it, and yet she wanted to dance and shout.

He’d really kissed her. He’d really started it and frankly, she didn’t intend to let him finish for a good long time. Lifting her hands, she ran them over his arms and shoulders and chest, but that wasn’t enough, she needed more, so she pulled his shirt front from his trousers and slid her hands beneath to his chest, roaming over his hot, sleek flesh.

He sucked in a harsh breath and bent a little so he could band his arms more tightly around her. They stumbled then, back against his desk. A stack of files fell to the floor.

Laughing breathlessly they straightened away from the desk, landing with a thud against the opposite wall, where he pinned her for a long, blissful moment during which his hands slid beneath her blouse as well, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples.

“One of these days,” he growled, “I’m going to get you back into a bedroom. Yours, mine, I don’t care.”

With a rough sound of frustration, he undid her buttons, pulled both her blouse and bra down her arms and touched her skin-to-skin this time. Shivering, she dug her nails into his back while he dragged hot, wet, open-mouth kisses down her throat, taking special care with each and every still-visible mark on her. Only when he was done, silently paying homage to every inch, did he wander his way to her bare shoulder, then back up her collar bone, still licking, tasting, kissing.

It wasn’t enough. Even as she thought it, he plumped up her breasts with his hands, driving her crazy with nothing more than his mouth. He didn’t lift his head for a long time, and far before he did, Tessa’s body came alive—glowing, aching, pulsing with pleasure and need and heat. She wanted to make wild, messy, mind-bending love right here in his office, she wanted—

“Tessa.” Breathing heavily, he put his forehead to hers. His fingers went from making her writhe and whimper with pleasure to drawing slow, soothing circles on her back.

Not a good sign.

“This is not a smart idea,” he said a little thickly.

Definitely not a good sign. “You have a lock on your office door,” she managed to say.

He looked at the door, at the lock in question, and she could see him hesitate.

She didn’t want him to hesitate. She wanted him naked.

“I have a client coming in at two.” He leaned back to look at the clock.

Ten minutes until two.

She wanted to cry. Wanted to howl, and by the looks of him as he shoved his fingers through his hair, he felt the same way.

“We could go lock the glass doors,” she said quickly. “And pretend you’re not here—”

“Tess. I can’t take you here, not like this. We need privacy.” He slid her bra straps back up. The backs of his fingers brushed her pebbled nipples, ripping a shiver from her.

He groaned. “And hours,” he said roughly. “We need lots of hours.”

“I think I only need a minute.”

He closed his eyes and murmured, “Don’t make this harder.” He slid his fingers into her hair and tilted her head up to his. Eyes still closed, he kissed her, one long, clinging kiss that made a soft, clingy noise that tugged between her thighs.

“Tess,” he whispered, just that, just her name.

Her heart stumbled and she hugged him hard.

They heard the doors opening, signaling the arrival of his client and they stared at each other.