When You're Mine (MINE #3)(4)
“What do you need?”
Tabitha twisted her hands in front of her, digging her toe into the hardwood floor. “I’m hungry,” she purred like a needy little kitten.
My hard on strained against the loose fabric of my shorts while I continued to contemplate how the hell I could get my lips on hers. I’d f*cked many women, but only kissed a few. Kissing carried too many emotions, signifying the potential for more. I didn’t have time for more. But there was no denying, I wanted more of her.
Looking down at my growing need, she giggled. The sound tumbling from her mouth was so erotic, I felt dizzy and my mind reeled at the thought of what she would sound like once I did get my mouth on her. I wondered what kind of sounds she would give me if I f*cked her right here, right now. She folded her arms beneath her large breasts, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not a leftovers kind of girl, Barrett.”
Ah yes, Madison.
Madison Waters had been my intern as well as Tabitha’s friend and roommate. Our relationship was strictly physical. That was until I experienced a moment of weakness. I’d been thinking of kissing someone else when I kissed Madison, specifically the redhead standing in front of me.
The night I met Tabitha, I was immediately drawn to her. I couldn’t explain it, but each time those lips met the rim of her glass, my mouth watered to taste her. We shared several stolen looks throughout the night. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Her eyes alone bred something in me so raw… it was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. It confused me, and for three days straight, I thought about nothing, but her and those goddamn lips. So in a weak attempt to capture feelings for someone else, or crush them all completely, I kissed Madison. I won’t deny the fact that I felt something behind that kiss, but it was nothing compared to what I was feeling for Tabitha and I’d barely even touched her.
I walked forward until her back kissed the wall. “What happened between Madison and I was physical.” I said. “I always make my intentions very clear.” I caressed the back of her bare thigh. Her tense body softened with my touch, and her eyes closed on a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I need to know what you feel like.” I dropped my lips to her neck. “I need to know what you taste like.” I slowly moved my hand up, digging my fingers into the plump skin of her bare ass. “I need to know what this mouth of yours can say without talking.” Our lips were so close, her sweet breath mingling with mine. “I want to kiss you.”
“No.”
I squeezed her plump ass. “Just a taste,”
“No.” Small hands dug into my chest, shoving me backward. I stood an arm’s length away, our labored breaths desperate and hungry. She wanted me just as bad as I wanted her, but her loyalty to Madison was cock blocking like a mother f*cker. “No,” Those soft green eyes hardened with determination. I smiled. She would be a challenge, and I would pursue her just like I did everything else.
Aggressively.
Reaching for her hand, I led her into the kitchen. When I turned on the light above the stove, she immediately untangled her fingers from mine. I ignored the disappointment I felt in the pit of my stomach and opened up the refrigerator.
“Do you have any pickles?” she asked.
“Pickles?”
“Yeah… pickles.”
I opened the other door. “I’ve got a frozen pizza and…” Tucked behind a bottle of ranch dressing was a jar of pickles that had never been opened. “Pickles.” A smile stretched across those beautiful lips in a way that could only be felt in one damn place.
My chest.
I settled her on the stool while I slid the stuffed crust pizza into the oven, set the timer, and fixed us something to drink. Then, I leaned across the bar to enjoy the view. She’d requested a fork and was now fishing out pickle chips from the jar. Tabitha tilted her head back, dropping in a forkful of pickles. I admired the slender column of her neck and my lips tingled to taste her. “When I was younger I used to drink the juice straight from the jar.” Scrunching my nose, I swallowed in revulsion. “Don’t judge. I got off the juice the day Jordan Spears told me I smelled like pickles and my head looked like a fire hydrant. Then he proceeded to lift his leg and simulate peeing,” she finished, popping one more into her mouth. Twisting the cap back on, she slid them to me with a smile. “I kicked him in the nuts and never drank pickle juice again. I could never quite kick the pickles though.” The way her mouth moved when she chewed, who would have thought eating pickles, of all things, could be so damn hot.
“For the record, I want to kiss you pretty f*cking bad right now, but I don’t want a nut shot.”
Heat colored her cheeks. “Sorry if I interrupted you before. You looked like you were really concentrating on something.”
“Work,” I told her.
“At 2am?”
“Big case.”
Crossing her arms in front of her, she pushed herself up and leaned in closer. The smell of peaches assaulting my senses. “So how does it feel to be the most famous lawyer in the country, Barrett Shaw?”
The way she said my name had blood pulsing through every vein in my body, mainly my cock. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Seriously? You’ve never lost a case and you were just on CNN last month during the coverage of the Hidalgo trial. I can’t believe they found him not guilty. I mean, how do you do it?”