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She glanced back at the digital organizer. “Wait a minute. How long have you known about this event?”
Blake shrugged. “I don’t know. A couple months? Maybe three?”
“You realize most women need longer than three days’ notice for swanky parties. What makes you think I have anything suitable to wear?”
“Don’t women have dresses for all kinds of shit?”
She sighed. “That’s beside the point. You can’t ask someone to something like this on the spur of the moment.”
Blake gave her shit-eating grin. “All I heard was beside the point. Which means you have a dress.”
Erika rubbed her brow, and for a second, he started to worry about her “tired” comment. She’d pulled a couple of late nights this week, covering for a doctor who’d been involved in a skiing accident and broken his ankle, so maybe she was feeling overworked.
However…this felt like a different kind of tired.
He hated the fact she was fighting him so hard because it drove home what he already knew. Erika didn’t want to sleep with him.
If he wasn’t such a cocky, annoying, arrogant man, maybe he could accept that with good grace. But he couldn’t deal with the idea that fucking boring-ass Doug had gotten two coffee dates and four dinner dates, and he couldn’t even convince her to go to a shitty charity event with him as a favor.
The entire idea of her picking Doug over him rubbed Blake wrong. So he embraced his new bad habit of doing something he shouldn’t. Lucky for him, it was something he was also good at.
Seduction.
“Tell you what,” he said, circling the island until he stood next to her. “Why don’t you mull it over? I’ll even help you. You think best when you’re kissing, right?”
Before she could respond, he reached out, gripping her shoulders and pulling her close. His mouth was on hers in a second and he pushed her lips apart, his tongue dipping inside, tasting the beer. Her mouth was cold from the drink, so he worked hard to heat it, his breath mingling with hers, growing warmer.
Blake nipped her lower lip, then started exploring her mouth with his tongue again, making damn sure Erika was so focused on his kiss, her brain wouldn’t have time to make a pros and cons list like the one she’d been composing for Doug.
He half expected her to push him away, like she had the other night in his bedroom, so he went for a tighter grip. He released her shoulders, moving one hand to the nape of her neck to hold her in place, the other gliding down until it was wrapped around her waist, his fingers just grazing the top of the ass.
His kiss and hold were relentless, forceful, but he simply couldn’t let her go.
He didn’t begin to relax until Erika’s hands found their way to his shoulders, drifting higher as her fingers slipped through his hair, closing around it in tight fists. His scalp stung from her grip, but there was no way in hell he was going to complain.
Erika was kissing him back.
The passion between them ratcheted, soaring to levels he’d never reached. Kissing wasn’t high on his foreplay list. There were too many other erogenous zones that brought him more pleasure, but goddamn if her kiss didn’t leave his dick painfully hard, his balls tight.
Before he could think through his next move, he shifted them, the hand on her back sliding to her hip as he shoved one of his thighs between her legs. Erika pressed against him, dry humping his leg, the friction and heat from her pussy penetrating through her dress slacks and his lounge pants. Blake growled into her mouth, the hand on her hip aiding her motions, pushing and pulling her more firmly, helping to drive her arousal higher.
Fuck. Him.
She moaned into his mouth, the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. Blake deepened the kiss, determined to hear it again.
Erika didn’t disappoint, giving him the same moan three more times. Her teeth found his lower lip, teasing it, biting it. She was playing with him, giving back as good as she got.
Blake released her nape, drawing his hand around to the front, lightly cupping her throat. He didn’t apply pressure, just let her feel his touch, let the sheer possession of it sink into her psyche.
Erika wasn’t a submissive. Not by a long shot. But he knew her well enough to read her responses. Her body’s responses.
She liked it when he took charge, when he told her what to do. If he wasn’t so worried she’d turn tail and run if he stopped kissing her, he’d slide his lips to her ears and give her some more of that dirty talk she was so fond of.
Blake lost sense of time, too wrapped up in the kiss, in the way Erika was riding his thigh, in her.
She was fucking everything.
Perfection.
