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“Mhmm.” She sounds so pleased with herself.
She also sounds close. I arrive at another T-junction and turn to the right, sure that she’s just around the corner, waiting. I can even see the grin on her face in my mind.
But she’s not there.
“Did you take another wrong turn, perhaps?” Her voice is impish and beckoning. Urgency pumps through my veins. I’m a bloodhound on the trail of a criminal.
My lips twitch at the thought, and I continue to zigzag my way through the greenery. The scents of evergreen and earth fill my lungs.
“I’m going to find you,” I assure her, my body pumping with emotions and hormones. The drive. The primitive urge to chase. Pursue.
I’ve gotta get to her soon because all my blood is headed south. I pause to adjust my dick in my slacks.
“Mmm. . .” The sound comes from behind me, and I turn. There’s a flash of golden hair and a creamy sweatshirt, and then she’s gone, darting back into the maze of green. I follow. Left. Right. Dead end. Backtrack.
“What will you do?” she asks, sounding pleased at the idea. “When you find me?”
“You mean when I catch you?”
No response. My heart rate picks up. I must be close.
“Boo!” She darts forward as I round another corner. I have a vague impression of a square space, a bench in the middle of the grass and a statue across from it.
But most of my attention is on the beautiful young woman laughing up at me. I snag her by the waist and pull her hips to mine. Her lashes flutter, and I can tell she feels what she does to me. What chasing her through a lush maze did to my cock.
God, she’s something else. I want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her off somewhere private and remote.
Her giggles turn into a broad smile, and fuck if that doesn’t do weird things to my heart. And my stomach. There’s a vague fluttery sensation in both.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi yourself.”
Her hands slide up my arms to my shoulders and then down to rest against my chest. Need burns me from the inside out. I caught her. She’s mine now.
“I’m waiting. . .” Her brows lift in a sexy combination of question and goading.
“To see what happens when I catch you?” I ask, gaze memorizing every feature. “This.”
Ducking my head, I press my lips against hers in a firm kiss that leaves no doubt of how much I want her. I’m sick of denying myself. Denying her.
She wants me, too. The truth is in the way her lips move against mine, urgent and surrendering to the desire that is flaming between us. Hotter and hotter. A fire that threatens to rage out of control with every breathy sigh. Every shift of her hips.
I back her up a few steps.
She clings to the front of my shirt, stretching upward to return my kisses. The most amazing sounds bubble up her throat. So fucking needy. Like she’ll die if she doesn’t keep kissing me. If she loses this connection.
“This,” I say as I break our kiss. “This is what happens when I catch you.”
Her arms slide up around my neck, and she lifts her lips, ready for more.
Now that I know the truth, that she lets her hair down away from the office, I want to get tangled with her. See what this mystery date entails. Ravish her. Lose myself in her.
Her nails rake against my scalp, and I shudder, hips flexing. A siren blares through my head. We should slow down. We’re outside. Exposed. We’re not exactly alone.
My body doesn’t care. I need her. Her body beneath mine and nothing separating us. Not clothing, not air.
But when I lift my head, trying desperately to remember where we are and why we’re here, she whimpers, practically climbing into my arms.
