Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(112)

I’d still planned to argue until she’d added that last part. As soon as she said kiss me, the fight left, leaving just her, and me, and a locked office door.

“In that order?” I drawled, my hands on her waist now.

“In any order you like,” she said, giving me a smile, her gaze dropping to my mouth. “I missed you,” she said. “And I’d like some kisses before we leave this office.”

“I’m yours to command,” I said, lowering my mouth to hers. We both sighed as our lips met, my fingers digging into her sides. Fuck. I’d last touched her yesterday, but I missed this. I missed the feel of her.

Her dress might’ve been meant to resemble a knit sweater, but the fabric was thin. I could feel the heat of her body beneath it. Intoxicated by the hot, wet strokes of her tongue, I slid my hands lower and then groaned.

“Fuck.” My fingers flexed on her bottom. “Are you—” I had to swallow. “You’re not wearing any underwear,” I said, my body straining with the effort to stop myself from lifting her dress and touching the bare skin of her ass, her cunt.

Or I could taste it.

She smiled against my neck and I shook, forcing myself to relax my hands. I’d been holding her so hard, I might’ve left marks. What had she been thinking, teasing me like this? Did she have no idea how badly I wanted her? How often I’d thought about us?

I prided myself on my self-control, but even I had my limits.

“Are you trying to make me lose my mind?” I growled, grabbing her wrists and leaning back. I’m sure I looked wild. I felt wild.

She smiled, her eyes dancing playfully, pushing me further past the point of no return.

“No,” she said sweetly, twisting her hands until I released her and then smoothing her palms down the front of my shirt. “I just thought, since we don’t have much opportunity to be together, we could fool around a little before—”

“Oh no. No, no.” I advanced on her and she stumbled a bit as she walked backward until her legs connected with Cletus’s desk. “We’re not fooling around.”

“We—we’re not?” Charlotte caught herself on the edge of the desktop, the teasing brightness of her gaze giving way to something both fearful and hopeful.

“Nope,” I said, tilting my head to get a good look at her and how fucking sexy she was, and I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra either. That’s it.

I hadn’t wanted our first time to be in an office over an auto shop, but did it really matter? It didn’t. Not when I planned to have her thousands of times in a thousand different places and ways. Who the fuck cared where we did it first, as long as we kept doing it?

When I reached for the hem of her dress, she caught my hands. “Hank, wait. Wait.”

Needing relief, I brought her hands to the front of my pants and pressed them there. Her breath hitched and her arms relaxed, and she stroked me over my jeans, a delectable little moan caught by my lips as I captured hers with a biting kiss.

Using her palm, she pressed forward and I angled my hips, rolling them to meet her strokes. She moaned again, tearing her mouth from mine. “What—what you doing?”

Abandoning her fingers to work their magic so I could work mine, I lifted the hem of her dress to her waist and cupped her.

She shivered. “Hank. What are—”

“You know what I’m doing.” I bit her jaw, the column of her throat, sliding a single finger inside her. She was ready, and so was I. I’d never been more ready in my life. “I’ve got a condom in my wallet. Unzip my pants and roll it on.”

“Hank—”

I lifted my free hand to cover her mouth, slowly pushing her head back until the crown of it connected with the hutch above the desk. “Charlotte. Do you want me to stop?”

Her eyes widened, but she shook her head.

“Can you be quiet?”

She nodded eagerly.

“Then get the condom. Roll it on. And open your legs.”





CHAPTER 30





HANK





“No woman has to be respectable to be valuable.”

MIKKI KENDALL, HOOD FEMINISM: NOTES FROM THE WOMEN THAT A MOVEMENT FORGOT





Her eyelashes flickered, her breath hitching, her body trembling, and her inner walls tightened around my finger. I narrowed my eyes as her body confirmed a very sexy suspicion of mine: Charlotte loved dirty talk.

Bossy, messy, domineering dirty talk.

I’d suspected as much when I’d touched her in my truck. She’d come the moment I started vocalizing my wishes. She’d asked for it. She’d loved it.

This knowledge put me in a precarious position. As already established, I was running short on self-control. I needed inside her, right fucking now, as long as she wanted me just the same. Thank God she wanted me to use a condom. The way heavy spikes of pleasure and pressure already tugged at the base of my spine, I wouldn’t last long, not even with a condom.

My options were: I could have her roll it on me right now, keep my mouth shut, and take what we both so clearly wanted, or . . . I’m a greedy bastard.

“You’re so wet.” I watched her, eager for any reaction. “Is this for me?”

She nodded, her gaze pleading, seemingly overcome. Something inside me stretched, asserted itself, shoving and clawing to the surface. Witnessing her reaction my voice, a new wildness sank low in my stomach, swelled in my groin, urgent.