Page 121

Dean leans up, getting off the couch and for a moment I’m confused. He scoops me up from the couch, wrapping my legs around his middle, bringing my face down to continue kissing me.

“Bedroom?”

“And if I say no?” I smirk.

“Then I’ll put you down, and we will watch a movie.” He’s serious. He is letting me know that I can say no at any point and we will stop, no question asked. No guilt. No frustration.

For that reason alone, it makes me even more turned on than I already am.

“I want you, Dean. In every way you can give me.” I kiss him.

He groans into my mouth. “Fuck yes, baby. You have me.”

The words do something dangerous to my chest.

I ignore it.

Dean carries me down the hallway like I weigh nothing, his mouth finding mine every few steps until I’m laughing against his lips.

“You’re going to walk into a wall.”

He smiles. “Worth it.”

“Very romantic.”

“Wasn’t trying to be romantic,” He says, pointedly.

He pushes his bedroom door closed behind us with his foot.

“What were you trying to be?”

His eyes drag slowly down my body.

“Thorough.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

I back up until my knees hit the mattress, never breaking eye contact with Dean. My fingers move slow, deliberate, peeling my jeans down my hips. The denim slides over my thighs and pools at my feet. I step out, leaving me in nothing but the black lace that barely covers anything.

Dean stays rooted in place. His jaw clenches so tight I can see the muscle twitch. His eyes drag over every inch of me like he’s memorizing the view. I can feel how badly he wants to move, how hard he’s fighting it. That restraint only makes me wetter.

I hook my thumbs into the waistband of the lace panties and pause, smirking. “Still feeling restrained over there, Ashford?”

“Barely.” His voice is gravel.

“Good.”

That single word snaps whatever thread he was holding onto. He crosses the room in two strides, grabs my waist, and yanks me against him. His mouth crashes over mine, rough and hungry. I moan into the kiss, arching into his chest.

“Careful, Morgan,” he growls against my lips.

“With what?” I ask, all fake innocence.

“With looking at me like you want me to lose control.”

I tilt my chin up. “Maybe I do.”