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4
Adrenaline rushed through Brit’s body from top to bottom. If she’d been weak and dizzy before the appetizers, now, after voicing the madness inside her head, she became stronger. Fuller. Victorious.
Every little sound around them fell into the distant background.
The moment his lips touched hers, fire ignited in her belly, fast tracking to the rest of her. She touched his chest, leaning on it, suffering from a different hunger. He conquered the kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth and burning her with a desire so strong she arched toward him. His beard only amplified her sensations, every single hair of his tickling her flesh and sizzling her insides.
Her entire body throbbed, roared like she was a lioness awakening after a long nap—and ravenous. So very ravenous.
He lowered his hands to her ass, bringing them to a wicked position. She molded her body to his, and the impressive hard-on poked her belly. Strong and powerful, heat sifted through their clothes. He cupped her behind, kneading it, and the fabric had never felt softer. In fact, the pressure of his palm made it seem like the silky material would either melt like most of her bones, or wither soon. The image of that sexy, large man naked in her bed popped in her mind and another notch of arousal tightened her nipples—almost painfully.
He slowed the kiss, pacing enough so she could moan, the sexy sound whispering back into her ears and prickling her skin. “God, you’re killing me,” he said in a low voice, earning another moan from her. The area between her legs slicked, her clit tingly and swollen. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, and when he landed his sinful lips on her ear, she grabbed on to him for support. “You feel so good in my arms, Brit.”
Encouraged, she touched his chest, taking her fingers down his abs for a stroll. Damn. Every part of him was so hard, she felt the ridges of his muscles beneath his shirt. She wished she could let go of his jacket and shirt. She slid her hands lower still until she found the buckle of his sleek belt. A groan filled his lips, and she’d never wished more she could tele transport them to her bedroom. A strand of self-empowerment ran through her, and she cupped the bulge in his pants, feeling him tremble and loving to be the one responsible for it.
He kissed her slower, more languidly, which only stoked her fire. Tenderly, he dropped his hands from her ass then withdrew a bit, leaving her confused and more eager than before. “We can’t do this here,” he said, and she blinked, looking around to certify this wasn’t a dream. Most people seemed enthralled with a show of dancers a la Cirque du Soleil that had begun on the opposite side. A couple of women tossed curious glances over their shoulders to them, a hint they weren’t completely ignored.
She raised her fingers to her lips, swollen and bruised from their make-out session. “How do I look?” Brit touched her hair, hoping she didn’t look too disheveled.
He outlined her cheek with his finger, and a naughty glint flickered in his eyes. “You look like you’re ready for more.”
She stifled a chuckle, frustration squeezing her lungs. Where did they go from here? She parted her lips, but hesitated, and shut them. She was woman enough to admit she wasn’t sorry for kissing him, but getting involved with Damian wouldn’t end well. He had the end of a marriage to mourn, and two kids to raise. And even if Violet hadn’t been one of her best friends, she wanted a boyfriend she could rely on. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re a fantastic woman, Brit, but I don’t know if we want the same things right now. For me, getting into a relationship with anyone would be tough, because I want to focus on the kids and this deal I want to nail,” he said.
“I completely understand.” She suppressed a sigh. Man, she liked him and disliked him for being so genuine. Unlike a few men she dated in the past, Damian had no time or energy for games. He wouldn’t lie to her, even if the truth hurt her.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you,” he said in a low but firm voice.
She swallowed. “What if we—took care of that part?” she said, the idea taking shape in her head. Excitement whispered beneath her flesh, raising goose bumps on her arms. Why not? Perhaps he wasn’t boyfriend material, but didn’t she have other needs too? Sexual needs? “Tonight. If you want to, of course. Libby is sleeping over at my mom’s. I’m not expecting anything after tonight. We can treat this as if we’re on a Tinder date.”
He leaned closer. “A Tinder date?”
“You meet someone, you have sex and you don’t have to see them again. Or in our case, talk about it,” she said. She’d only done a couple of Tinder dates and far too long ago, but she kept that information private. Let him believe she was an experienced, adult woman who wouldn’t cling to him after the doing the deed.
“I’d love a non-Tinder Tinder date with you,” he said.
“Great. Let’s mingle at this party because I want to shake some hands and I know you can’t leave yet. Then we leave,” she said. She considered giving up networking amongst the rich and famous for a chance to kiss him again, naked. But Bill’s proposal rang in her ears. He’d offered her what was short change for him if she watched Damian and his involvement with Candi. She’d flatly declined, of course, but maybe sleeping with Damian would cement his non-involvement with Candi.
Apprehension squeezed her throat. What if Damian got involved with Candi later? He didn’t seem interested in Bill’s wife, but how could Brit be sure? Men had deceived her in the past, and she wouldn’t swear on any of them. Eddie, Libby’s father, had been one of them. What a joke.
But Damian wasn’t Eddie, and also… her bad luck with men didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed a good time every once in a while—especially tonight.
Tonight, she’d enjoy Damian as much as she could. Because there wouldn’t, couldn’t be a second non-Tinder Tinder date.
* * *
“Need some help?”Damian asked in a smooth voice, nipping her shoulder.
Shivers rippled down her spine, and the keys trembled in her hand. She’d been trying to open her door for longer than it usually took, but who could blame her? Focusing was hard enough, what with a hot man kissing your head and murmuring dirty words. All the way during the drive back, a cloud of anticipation had blinded her common sense. “Maybe.”
He took the keyring from her hand, then switched the key and it fit perfectly in the hole. When she entered her home, she motioned to turn on the lights, but he embraced her from behind, and all her thinking skills took a backseat to the desire flooding her system.
She felt his massive cock rub against her backside, and moaned. He grabbed her hands, splaying them over the couch, and hiked up her dress until her G-stringed ass was in full view. She clenched the sofa, a part of her feeling dangerously exposed to him. Lights from the porch cast over the living room, giving enough beam to outline shapes and shadows.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since the other day,” he said in a gravelly voice. He slid her G-string down, and by the time it reached her heels, it felt thinner than air. Then, he nipped her ass, grazing his teeth over her flesh. “You have the sexiest ass. Fuck, it’s perfect.”
Perfect? Another danger wave of lust washed over her. She softened, drooping over the sofa, high on arousal. What did he mean by since the other day? The time they’d shared a moment in his home? The idea he’d been thinking about her so intimately and doing naughty things to her heated her blood. She undulated her hips, giving herself to him, loving how he sank his teeth on her skin. A temporary sting stabbed at her, then little tingles of awareness spread from her ass to the rest of her, as if he just staked his claim on her.
