Beautiful Bastard (Beautiful Bastard, #1)(16)
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been working for you for almost a year, so you’d think you’d remember that I check in with my advisor every other week. I just finished and wanted to do some shopping. Maybe you need to put an ankle bracelet on me so you can creepily stalk me full time. Though, hey, you managed to find me here without one.”
I glared at her, struggling to find something to say. “You’re always so f*cking pissy with me.”
Nice one, Ben. Really clever.
“Come with me,” she said, and grabbed hold of my arm, dragging me to the back of the store. She pulled me around a corner and into a dressing room. She had obviously been here awhile; there were piles of lingerie on the chairs and hangers full of unidentifiable scraps of lace. Music was being piped through overhead speakers, and I was glad I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping my voice down as I strangled her.
Closing the large mirrored door opposite a silk-covered chaise, she stood with her eyes locked on mine. “Did you follow me here?”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“So you just happened to be browsing around a women’s lingerie store. Just some pervy thing you do in your spare time?”
“Get over yourself, Miss Mills.”
“You know, it’s a good thing you’ve got that big dick to make up for that mouth of yours.”
I found myself leaning forward, whispering, “I’m pretty sure you’d be thrilled with my mouth too.”
Suddenly everything felt too intense, too loud, too vivid. Her chest was heaving, and her gaze shifted to my mouth as she bit her bottom lip. Slowly wrapping my tie around her fist, she pulled me to her. I opened my mouth, feeling her soft tongue press forward.
I couldn’t pull back now, and slid one hand to her jaw and the other up to her hair. I removed the clip holding her ponytail and soft waves fell around my hand. I fisted the mass tightly, jerking her head to better accommodate my mouth. I needed more. I needed all of her. She moaned and I pulled it tighter. “You like that.”
“God, yes.”
At that moment, hearing those words, I didn’t care about anything else: where we were, who we were, or how we felt about each other. Never in my life had I felt such raw chemistry with anyone. When we were together like this, nothing else mattered.
My hands ran down her sides and I gripped the hem of her shirt, bringing it up and over her head, breaking our kiss for only a second. Not to be left behind, she pushed my jacket from my shoulders and it dropped to the floor.
My thumbs ran circles across her skin as I moved my hands to the waist of her jeans. Quickly undone, they fell to the floor, and she kicked them off along with her sandals. I kissed down her neck and shoulders.
“Damn,” I growled. Looking up I could see her perfect body reflected back at me in the full-length mirror. I had fantasized about her undressed more times than I could probably admit, but reality, in daylight, was better. So much better. She was wearing sheer black panties that only covered half her ass, and a matching bra, her silky hair spilling down across her back. The muscles in her long, toned legs flexed as she pushed up on her toes to reach my neck. The visual, along with the feeling of her lips, made my dick push painfully against the confines of my pants.
She bit my ear hard as her hands went to the buttons of my shirt. “I think you like it rough too.”
I undid my pants and belt, pushing them and my boxers to the floor, and then pulled her with me to the chaise.
A thrill shot through me as my hands moved around her ribs to the clasp of her bra. Her breasts pressed against me as if urging me on, and I kissed along her neck as my fingers quickly unhooked her bra and I slipped the straps from her shoulders. I pulled back slightly to allow the garment to fall and for the first time took in the full view of her breasts completely bared to me. Fucking perfect. In my fantasies I’d done everything to them: touched them, kissed them, sucked them, f*cked them, but nothing compared to the reality of just staring at them.
Her hips rolled over me, and nothing but her tiny panties separated us. I buried my face in her chest and her hands ran through my hair, pulling me closer.
“You want to taste me?” she whispered, staring down at me. She pulled my hair hard enough to yank my head away from her skin.
I had no smart-ass remark, nothing biting to get her to stop talking and just f*ck me. I did want to taste her skin. I wanted it more than I think I’d ever wanted anything. “Yeah.”
“Ask nicely, then.”
“Fuck asking nicely. Let me go.”
She whimpered, leaning forward to let me suck a perfect nipple into my mouth, causing her to pull harder on my hair. Damn that felt good.
So many thoughts ran through my mind. There was nothing in this world I wanted more than to bury myself in her, but I knew when it was over, I would hate us both. Her for making me weak, and myself for allowing lust to override my common sense. But I also knew I couldn’t stop. I had turned into a junkie, living for my next fix. My perfectly constructed life was crashing around me and all I cared about was feeling her.
Sliding my hands down her sides, I let my fingers run along the waist of her underwear. A shiver went through her, and I closed my eyes tightly as I bound the material in my hand, willing myself to stop.
“Go ahead and rip them . . . you know you want to,” she murmured into my ear and then bit down hard. A half-second later, her panties were nothing but a mess of lace in the corner of the room. Grabbing her hips roughly, I lifted her and held the base of my dick with the other hand, and pulled her down onto me.