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His tongue swept inside her mouth, an invasion of heat and electricity as his arms banded around her, keeping her body flush with his. She made a noise that was half desperation, half relief.
Yes, she thought.This. This is everything.
His hands were everywhere, grabbing, touching, caressing, kneading. They were in her hair, at her ass, up her back, her ribs—always searching and pulling and grasping. Like he couldn’t get enough of her and didn’t want to.
Her hands were much the same. In his hair, running over his shoulders, tugging at his suspenders, wherever she could reach.
He groaned into her mouth and it went straight to her center.
This was the kind of kiss that sparked addiction and need.
The kind that started something important and extraordinary.
Gradually the kiss began to slow. It grew deeper, their movements more deliberate. He rested his forehead against hers, his hands at her waist, closed his eyes, the hint of a smile on his mouth.
She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his arms, catching her breath.
A knock on the door had them stepping away from one another. She smoothed her shirt down where it had ridden up from his roaming hands.
“Come in,” she called, her eyes locked on André’s which were watching her with heated promise.
The door opened and Justin came in. He took one look at Nikki and then André and didn’t hide his grin.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Justin said.
“It’s fine,” Nikki said, sounding way cooler than she felt. Because she felt hot.
Her entire body felt like it was on fire and she could only imagine what she looked like. Was it obvious that she’d just had André’s tongue in her mouth and his hands in her hair?
She hoped so.
That thought caused the heat pooling in her belly to coil tighter.
“What’s up?” she asked.
Justin handed her her phone. “This was ringing in the lounge. I thought you might want it.”
Nikki took the phone and glanced at the screen just as it started to ring again.
It was a douse of ice water on her blazing thoughts.
“Oh.” She swiped quickly. “Hello.”
“Oh my God, I thought you were dead,” Zara said, sounding relieved.
Nikki forced a chuckle and tucked her hair behind her ear as she glanced at André.
He hadn’t moved.
He was still standing in the middle of her extraordinary new office, his heated eyes on her with a promise that said they would finish what they had started.
“I landed a minute ago,” Zara was saying. “I’m working on clearing my schedule and getting a place to stay in Chicago while we do this thing. What works for you and your calendar?”
“Me?” Nikki asked, not sure she understood what the pop star had just said. Her thoughts were still on André and his incredible mouth.
“Yeah. Shit. I have to take this other call. But check your timetable. What did we say? Two? Three weeks? Call me when you have dates.” And then she hung up.
Wait.
