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There it is.
The same choice he gave me before. The one I couldn’t make when he had me backed against that wall and all I had to do was tell him to break my stupid rules.
He waited then.
He’s waiting now.
Except this time, I already know my answer.
I feel the rough scrape of his calloused thumb all over my body in shivers and tingles. There’s a throbbing between my thighs that’s almost painful because of the damn hormones from the baby he put inside me. And now only he can fix what he’s done.
With his dick.
I’m not strong enough to hold back the whimper that falls out of my mouth when that teasing thumb of his climbs a little higher.
The smug look on his face is the match struck and thrown.
Fuck it.
I reach out, grab a fistful of his sweat-soaked T-shirt, and yank him forward.
He stumbles a half-step closer, closing that last fraction of space between us. The thick leather of his tool belt bumps against the edge of the counter. Before he can even process the movement, I slide my hand around the back of his neck and drag his mouth down to mine.
It’s messy, wet, and totally desperate. Our teeth clack together as we wrestle for control, but it only lasts about two seconds. The moment his tongue sweeps past my lips, the fight just drains right out of me. I melt backward, opening up and letting him take over. He tastes like salt and everything I’ve been waiting for. For a fraction of a second, he freezes in shock, but then a rough groan rumbles out of his chest.
His hands dig into my hips, hauling me against him as his tongue pushes deeper into my mouth. I drag my fingers up the back of his neck and scrape my nails over the velvety fuzz of his hair, kissing him back and taking months of frustration out on his body.
He fumbles at his waist, and the leather tool belt hits the floor with a loud bang.
Sumner breaks the kiss just enough to look me in the eye. He’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling against mine. His lips are shiny from our kiss, and his eyes are almost black. "Are you sure?" he asks, and he almost sounds like he’s in pain.
"I swear to god, if your dick isn't inside me in the next five seconds, I'm going to shove you on the floor and do it myself," I tell him, my hands sliding down to grip his sides. “Stop being such a good guy and fuck me like a bad one.”
He lets out a harsh, jagged breath, grabs the hem of my oversized T-shirt, and pulls it over my head.
The shirt barely clears my arms before his gaze catches on the glass beside my hip.
Before I realize what he’s doing, he reaches into it and fishes out one of the ice cubes.
“What are you—”
The ice touches the base of my throat, and I gasp.
“Better?” he asks.
I shiver as a drop of freezing water drips down my body. “You’re trying to make me lose my fucking mind.”
His grin is slow and filthy. “That’s the plan.”
He drags the ice down the center of my chest, leaving a cold trail of water over skin that was burning up thirty seconds ago. The fan catches the wet path and sends goosebumps racing across my body.
Holy shit.
Sumner watches every single one of them appear.
“You like that.”
I shiver again, my thighs tightening around his hips. “Yeah. Don’t stop.”
