Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales #1)(39)

He waved his driver off and followed her up the stairs. Her hips swung with each step, as if she sought to torture him with the very thing he couldn’t have, since she’d more than likely change her mind before he could kiss her. And yet he followed her inside anyway because he was a masochistic * like that.

She flicked the lights on and glanced over her shoulder. “Beer?”

“Sure,” he said, shrugging out of his coat. He laid it across the chair where she’d dropped hers. “Thanks.”

She went into the kitchen, and he wandered around the living room. The picture on the shelf above the sofa was askew, so he nudged it straight before settling on the couch. She had a bunch of photos of herself with what he could only assume were her parents, a few of her with her roommate, but none of them had men in them.

He wasn’t sure why that made him happy, but it did.

When she came back into the living room carrying two open beers, he smiled at her. She kicked off her heels but still wore her dress, and was as gorgeous as always. He took the beer she offered him, and copied her, taking his shoes off and sliding them side by side under the table with his foot.

She sat down beside him, turning toward him and tucking her foot under her. Her knee touched his thigh, and he stiffened. Resting her head on a hand, she leaned against the back of the couch and smiled at him. “So…”

He raised a brow. “So?”

“How do you think tomorrow—?” She broke off, pressed her lips together, and shook her head. “You know what? Screw this.”

After setting down her beer, she yanked his out of his hand mid sip. He blinked. “Hey. I was drinking that.

“I’m done.” She straddled his lap and cupped his face. His heart lurched, and his cock thickened with need. “I invited you in. Now it’s time for you to fulfill your part of the bargain, Benji.”

He held her still, digging his fingers into her thighs, but didn’t move. “Say it. I need to hear you say it.”

“Kiss me. Take me.” She buried her hands securely in his hair. “Make me yours.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, sliding his hands down her legs, and back up—only this time under her skirt. “Maggie.”

He kissed her fully. All the other times they’d kissed, minus the time he’d made her come, he’d held himself back. Hadn’t let himself get caught up in the moment. Well, not this time.

This time, he was all f*cking in.

She gasped and clung to him, rolling her hips against him hungrily. He entwined his tongue with hers, loving the way she tasted. Hell, she tasted like she was his—and he liked that. He slid his hands up her curves. If he was a poetic man, he could write a verse or two about the way her waist flared out slightly at her hips, intoxicating him. He arched up, rubbing against her warm core, and she moaned, pressing down firmly.

She broke the kiss off and drew in a ragged breath. “I need a minute…I need…”

He brushed her hair out of her face. “I’ve made many mistakes in my life, but this isn’t one of them.” He picked her up and laid her down on the couch, lowering his body over hers. “You never know what life will throw at you, or how things will go, but this isn’t a mistake. And you sense that, too, which is what scares you so much.”

He kissed her again, gently, and after a moment of hesitation, she kissed him back, wrapping her legs and arms around him. That was all the answer he needed. This.

Skimming his fingers up her soft thigh, he cupped her ass, hauling her closer to him as he deepened the kiss. She gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders, her tongue circling his. Something that felt this good, this right, couldn’t be wrong.

And he refused to believe it could be.

Smoothly, he stood and picked her up without breaking her hold on him, or their kiss. He headed for the hallway to the left, where she’d come from earlier. When he pushed through the door, he strode to the bed in the middle of the room, tossed her on it and yanked his bowtie off.

There was a meow, a hiss, and claws scratching against wood as her cat bolted out of the room. “Oops.”

A laugh escaped her, and he joined her as he dropped his bowtie to the floor. And it felt f*cking amazing to be undressing a woman and laughing over something as silly as a damn cat.

“Don’t worry about him. He was just hiding under the bed, like usual.” She watched him closely, licking her lips and pressing her thighs together. It was, hands down, the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. Just like that, his mood shifted from amused to unquenchable lust for Maggie. “Close the door,” she said.

Crossing the room, he did as told. “Protection?” he managed to grit out.

“Oh, right.” She rolled over and opened the drawer next to her bed. Taking out a foil packet, she tossed it at him. “There you go.”

He undid the buttons of his shirt, and she lifted herself up on elbows. When his shirt was off, he grabbed his waistband, uncertain whether he should take his pants off or not. She hadn’t removed a single article of clothing yet.

“Benjamin,” she said, her voice coming out a little bit strangled “I…I want to see you. All of you. Don’t stop.”

He bit back a moan. He planned on making her say that again, later, louder. And naked. Not wasting time, he flicked his wrist and let his pants hit the floor.