“You didn’t let her down. You’re doing great. In fact, I think you should start your own firm.” Blake laughed at the shock on Farrah’s face. “Seriously. You’ve been handling everything so well, even when we had to move the deadline up. You shouldn’t have to toil away in an office somewhere, waiting for other people to tell you you’re good enough.”
“I’m not ready.” Farrah’s jaw set in that stubborn line he knew so well. “One day, I’ll go fully independent. But I’ve only been in the industry for a few years. I have no clue how to start a business.”
“Neither did I and look at me now.” Blake’s lips curved. “I remember someone once told me, no one has experience running a business until they run a business, and if it’s what you want to do and you give it your all, you’ll succeed.”
A direct quote pulled forth from the wells of memory.
Farrah’s eyes widened. “You remember.”
“How could I forget?”
She’d been the one who’d pushed him to go for his dreams. Without her, Legends wouldn’t exist.
What happened next happened in slow motion.
Farrah closed the distance between them until her orange blossom and vanilla scent wrapped around Blake.
His breathing turned shallow. He needed to get out of here. He’d barely been able to stop himself from kissing her earlier; he didn’t have enough willpower to do so again.
But he didn’t—couldn’t—move.
The scene hazed over like they were in a dream world. A part of Blake wondered if he was in a dream.
Then Farrah’s lips touched his, and he stopped giving a damn whether this was real.
Whatever it was, Blake was going to enjoy the hell out of it while it lasted.
Chapter Sixteen
Blake’s resistance: gone.
Their kiss was an earthquake that split him apart at the seams. Five years of built-up tension and longing exploded at once, cracking his ironclad control and threatening to change the landscape of his life forever.
Five years of hopes and dreams, all leading to this moment.
What started as a tentative embrace morphed into an all-out, down and dirty battle of the senses. Their lips collided, and their hands roamed to the cacophony of rain and thunder outside. The force of the storm beat in time with Blake’s pulse as he devoured every drop of the chocolate-eyed siren in his arms.
Farrah tasted of sunshine and redemption, and he captured her moans in his mouth, desperate to etch every inch of her into himself.
“God, it’s been so long,” she breathed. She ground against him; nothing but two thin layers of fabric separated them, and he could feel how wet she was.
Carnal desire shoved aside whatever rational thought Blake had left. He flipped her over and pinned her hands above her head, soaking in the sight of Farrah’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “Too long,” he agreed. “But nice to see you remember my name.”
“Still cocky as ever.” Farrah’s laugh faded into another moan when he nipped at the sensitive spot beneath her ear.
“Right again.” Blake pressed his hardness into her soft core, just in case his double entendre wasn’t clear, and absorbed the tiny shudders that wracked her body. He cupped one breast through her shirt and swept his thumb over her nipple, watching as it tightened and rose into a peak that begged to be sucked.
He was so turned on it hurt. The beast inside prodded him to take her, to raise her legs over his shoulders and bury himself so deep nothing could ever tear them apart; the man wanted to savor every fucking second. He’d waited years for this; he wasn’t going to throw it all away in a matter of minutes.
Yes, Blake had stamina, but at this rate, he’d be lucky if he didn’t come after a handful of thrusts.
“Do something,” Farrah demanded, her words thick with lust and impatience.
A smoky promise edged into his chuckle. “As you wish.”
Blake caressed her inner thighs, savoring the silkiness of her skin, before he pushed her panties aside and rubbed his thumb over her most sensitive bundle of nerves. Farrah’s head fell back when he slipped two fingers inside her, gritting his teeth at how tight and wet she was. He was going to lose it, and they’d just gotten started.
Blake balled his other hand into a fist, straining for self-control, as he worked up a rhythm that had Farrah crying out with pleasure.