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I gulped. “You’re not reading me wrong.”
It was like a switch flipped within him. His eyes became soft, and I searched them, looking for a hint of feeling in those deep pools of black and gray.
Lips brushed against mine, so gently I could barely feel it.
“Tell me,” he mumbled. “Use your words.”
My breath caught in my throat, an aching need overtaking any words. I didn’t know how to say it. Didn’t want to say it because then it would feel too real. I wanted this, wanted him.
“Ray—”
“Kiss me.”
Soft lips pressed harder against mine.
His fingers dug into my skin, wanting but not bruising, as he held my head in place. He kissed me, and the world stopped turning, my lungs stopped working, my heart stopped beating. I grabbed him by the shirt, tugging him closer. My lips parted when his did, letting him in, giving him more. He tasted of fresh mint, and mixed with the morning coffee I could smell on him and the cologne I was so used to, it was nearly intoxicating.
His free hand wrapped around me, resting at the waistline of my pants. He delved deeper into my mouth, the kiss changing purpose. This wasn’t practice. It was need.
Butterflies fluttered in my belly and my skin heated, every piece of me feeling far too warm. This went way beyond what it had been on the dance floor. His mouth strayed, kissing along my cheek, my jaw, the soft spot under my ear that made me sigh into him. His hips pressed in further, seating himself against the edge of the desk between my thighs, and holy fucking shit he was hard.
I didn’t know what to do. My hands shook, my breathing faltered, and as if he knew my body better than I did, he nipped and sucked and kissed at every little spot on my neck that drove me wild. I knew in my bones that I wanted this as much as he clearly did. It was too much to ask for, though. Too dangerous. It walked the line between real and fake.
I didn’t care, though.
My fingers moved before I told them to, wrapping around the little buttons of his shirt and tugging them free one by one. The idea of touching the bare chest I’d seen the day he was rock climbing was too tempting, all-consuming. My shaking hands struggled to get the buttons undone, and Wade took over, gently moving my hand out of the way before giving his shirt one swift tug. The buttons went flying, pinging against the floor, the desk.
“Your shirt,” I said between breaths.
“I have a spare.” His lips found mine again, teasing and raw, and I took every little bit he gave me. The sides of his shirt hung loosely on either side of his chest and I let myself explore, my fingers and nails dragging along each ripple of muscle. His skin was soft, warm, and good god I wanted to get my mouth on it.
Fingers toyed at the top hem of my pants, uncertain and hesitant, like he wanted to but wasn’t sure he was allowed.
“Can I?” he breathed against my lips.
“Please.”
I could feel his smirk break out against my mouth at the same moment that he started pulling my shirt out, freeing it from its prison. The office door slammed and locked, making my body jump, but he pressed his lips against my ear. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispered, the tapping of his fingers against the desk dragging my attention to them sluggishly. I noticed a button with the word door written below it.
I wanted to simultaneously run and let him tear me to shreds.
Wade’s hands were far more gentle with my buttons than they were with his own. He unbuttoned each with precision, letting the sides of my blouse hang open as he finished the last one. A pang of self-consciousness nearly made me stop, but then he was on my neck again, my collarbone, the tops of my breasts, and it melted away like butter. He was too good at finding the right spots.
I shrugged my blouse off my shoulders and reached behind my back, aimlessly searching for the clasp on my bra. My fingers wouldn’t stop shaking, wouldn’t let me be precise, and I whimpered in frustration as I tried and failed to release it. But then warm hands met mine, unhooking the three little fasteners holding it in place, and within a second my bra joined my shirt on the side of the desk.
Wade stood up straight, taking a moment to catch his breath as he shirked his own shirt, his eyes fucking devouring me. “Beautiful,” he rasped. “Fucking beautiful.”
I could feel the warmth spreading in more than just my cheeks.
He pressed a gentle kiss against my lips as he came back to me before his mouth was on my chest, kissing and sucking on the skin around my breasts. Teasing me, avoiding my nipples that were standing on end for him. I watched as the muscles in his back flexed, dragging my fingers along them, sighing into him.
This wasn’t stopping, I knew that with every part of my being. I didn’t want it to, wouldn’t let it. I needed this, and from the way he touched me, I could tell he did too.
“More,” I gulped. I grasped the clasp at the top of my trousers, freeing it after a few tries, and pulled down the zipper. “Please.”
His answering groan was enough to set me on fire. I knew the moment he got within an inch of the heat between my thighs that he’d know exactly how much more I wanted, and I wasn’t even ashamed of it. He had to be used to that.
“Come here,” he grumbled, wrapping one arm around my waist tightly and lifting my body up. His free hand grabbed the top hem of my trousers and panties from the back, his fingers resting against the top of my ass, and pulled down once, twice, over the rounded crest. His knuckles just barely passed over my slit as he pulled them further and plopped me back down, and when I chanced a quick look, a thin, clear thread of me stretched between my thighs and the top of his hand.
