Savor (Billionaire Bachelors Club #3)(18)
Her bra is white, lacy, and her br**sts strain against the delicate fabric. My brow breaks out in a sweat at the tantalizing glimpse, and I keep my eyes trained at that spot for as long as I can before she straightens up and her br**sts are out of view.
Damn, the woman is too hot for words.
“I’ll toss this in the trash on my way out,” she says from over her shoulder as she exits my office and heads for her desk.
I sit in my chair, immobilized as I watch her. The sway of her hips mesmerizes me. Her walk is pure seduction. That black skirt fuels my imagination, what with the way it hugs her every curve. Her ass just begs for my hands to touch it.
Get a f**king grip, man. She’s your assistant. You can’t go there.
Ignoring the negative thoughts running through my head, I stand and pull my wallet out of my back pocket, flipping it open. “I owe you money for dinner, Bryn.”
“I can cut myself a check tomorrow if you’d like. We can write it off as a business expense, you know,” she says as she rummages through her desk. “It’s no big deal.”
She’s always thinking, my assistant. “I’d rather give you cash right now, if you don’t mind.” I head for her desk, as I start to pull out a couple of twenties. “You kept the receipt, right?”
I’m so intent on digging through my wallet I don’t realize I’m right in front of Bryn until it’s too late. I run straight into her, our bodies colliding, and I reach out, my wallet dropping from my hand to the floor as I wrap my arms around her waist to keep her from falling.
“Oh!” She grips my shirt to keep herself from slipping in those heels she’s wearing, and her soft, delicious curves nestle up close. I rest my hands tentatively on her back, just above the curve of her ass as she tilts her head up, her wide-eyed gaze meeting mine. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her tongue sneaking out and moistening her lips.
Shit, why did she have to go and do that?
“Uh, I’m the one who should apologize since I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I say, my brain stuttering to a halt at having her in my arms. I tighten my hold on her just the slightest bit. She feels damn good. Too good. My skin is electric, my hands itching to search her body, and I realize I should shove her away. End this conversation now before it has a chance to get completely out of hand.
“All right then. Maybe you should.” Her fingers curl tighter into my shirt, fingertips brushing against my skin, and I feel her touch to the very depths of my bones, even through the fabric. My breath sticks in my throat as I stare at her, completely fascinated with the sultry expression that crosses her face. “Apologize, Mr. DeLuca.”
“Sorry, Miss James,” I whisper, making her smile. Damn, that smile is gorgeous. Everything about her is gorgeous. Why did I never notice her like this before? Well, I did get hung up on her scent but told myself it was nothing. That she was nothing special.
Was I such a shallow bastard that form-fitting clothes and makeup was what it took to really make me notice her?
But there’s more to this woman. She’s smart and always there when I need her, which is often. I try my best to be fair and not always take, take, take, but I’ve been pretty damn selfish since I took over the winery. I’ve been living and breathing this place for weeks and months.
Bryn has stood by my side the entire time. Always there with what I need, guiding me when I’m lost. She keeps me on task.
And I’m a lust-addled idiot because all I can think about is how much I want to kiss her. Taste her. Strip off her clothing and see her naked for the first time.
My head is descending like I have no control over it, and she’s tilting her head back as if in waiting, the smile fading, her lips parting. Warning bells clang in my brain. What am I doing? I think I’m going to kiss her.
Yep, I’m definitely going to kiss her and find out what those delicious lips finally taste like. And when I finish kissing her, I’m going to press my face into her hair and breathe deep her addictive scent. Inhale it until it fills my lungs and makes my head spin. I can smell her now, her fragrance wrapping all around me, drugging me, and I close my eyes just as my mouth settles on hers.
The kiss is soft. Light. Simple. I’m testing her, testing myself. She doesn’t run, doesn’t so much as jerk in my hold. No, it’s worse. She should pull away from me and slap my face. Or at the very least, stomp on my foot, tell me I’m a bastard and that she quits. I’d let her go because it’s the right thing to do.
Pulling her into my arms and kissing her is the absolute wrong thing to do.
Instead, she sighs against my lips. The softest, sexiest little sound I think I’ve ever heard in my life and then her hands are smoothing up my chest, curving around my shoulders as she steps closer, clinging to me as if for dear life.
That’s it. The sign I’ve been looking for despite the flash warning repeating in my head:
Step away, step away, step the f**k away, ass**le.
I ignore it. I can’t resist her. I don’t want to resist her. All those soft, delicious curves press against me, her br**sts to my chest, her legs tangling with mine. She’s taller with those f**k-me heels on and I’m tempted to slide my hands down, curve them around her ass and see what she might do.
With the way she’s responding to my mouth on hers, I have a feeling she’d like it.
The kiss is still simple, the both of us seem to be waiting for the other to make the first move. I revel in the simplicity for a minute, wanting to etch this moment into my mind, so I don’t ever forget it. The way she feels in my arms. The little sounds she makes in the back of her throat, a combination of sighs and whimpers that are beyond arousing. She tastes like mint, sweet and fresh, and I slant my head, parting my lips, ready to take it deeper.