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Her soft lips parted, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. He swept it in, getting his first taste of her.
A moan slipped from her. Dalton gathered her close once her bag hit the floor. Her hands slid up his chest and rested on the base of his neck.
Dalton tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. Her tongue was at first shy but grew bolder.
His cock pressed against his jeans, demanding to be released from its prison.
“Dalton,” Anya moaned, tearing her mouth away from his. Her eyes opened and met his.
Their breaths were coming fast.
Her breasts crushed between them almost had him forgetting he was in the fire station. If they’d been anywhere else, he would have her on the desk in a heartbeat.
He reached up and ran a finger along that bottom lip of hers. It was plump and swollen from his kiss.
“What is it, Anya?” He flickered his gaze to hers.
“What are we doing?” she whispered.
“If you have to ask, then I might not have been doing it right.” His lips tilted up.
“You know what I mean.” She batted his chest with her hand.
“I couldn’t think of any other way to shut you up—”
“Hey!” She giggled.
Dalton’s heart skipped a beat at the sound. He liked hearing her laugh.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you here in the station,” he admitted.
Hell, he was too old to beat around the bush.
Honesty was always the best.
Anya played with an invisible piece of lint on his LVFD t-shirt before looking up to him.
“Well, I’m glad you did.”
“So, how about it. Want to come over to see my bikes?” Dalton asked. He held his breath, unsure of what she would say.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
