He put down his beer and shifted so he was facing me. “You said we’re not allowed to have sex,” his voice dipped low and was smooth as liquid, “but what about the other things?”
Heat flashed up my body, warming my cheeks and kicking up my heartrate. “Like what?”
As he moved closer, the cushion beneath me shifted and caused me to lean into him. He cased my face in his hands, the callouses from his cello playing rough against my skin and making me soft everywhere else.
“I can kiss you.” His eyes were deep and magnetic. “If you want me to.”
“Yes,” I breathed. Yes, my whole body screamed.
He blinked slowly and licked his lips in preparation. “Then, tell me you want me to.”
Had he realized this was an order, and one I was more than happy to obey? “I want you to kiss me, sir.”
It was his hands on me, or maybe it was habit, that had gotten me to tag the sir onto the end of it, but I suspected not. I wanted him to take, and I wanted to give. I needed to surrender to him.
And as he fused his lips over mine, that was exactly what I did.
-18-
Grant
When Tara addressed me as sir, I flashed back to the night she’d been on the table. I’d wanted so badly then to kiss her, and now here I was, my lips pressed to hers.
I’d told myself that as long as I didn’t fuck her, what I was doing wasn’t bad. I was here with her because I wanted to be, not because I was fishing for a story. If it happened, that was just a bonus. I wasn’t using her, and it was why I hadn’t pressed her for more details when she’d given me the fake job description.
Part of me had hoped she’d come out with it when I’d prompted her in the kitchen, but I also didn’t want to know, because I didn’t want to explore my feelings. She was a prostitute. That idea was supposed to turn me off.
So, why the hell did it turn me on?
The kiss had started soft, even tame, but her sharp inhale of breath caused power to build in my bloodstream. It raced through my veins, heightening my awareness of her and dulling my senses to everything else.
I pushed my lips to hers, moving my mouth against her mouth, giving her what she’d asked for. I licked at her, urging her lips to part, and shoved my tongue inside, all while holding her face steady in my hands.
In no time, we were both grasping at each other, our breathing ragged. I tilted her head, adjusting the angle so I could slide my tongue deeper inside her mouth and explore. When I drew a moan from her, I nearly lost control. Kissing her was fucking fantastic, but I wanted more.
“What else is allowed? I need to know the rules,” I demanded. Her top was a V of fabric, slicing deep down her chest, exposing so much cleavage I wondered if I stared too long, I might go blind. I’d put my hands on her breasts the first night, and she hadn’t stopped me, but this was before I’d known about the couple she was seeing, or who she was.
Everything had changed since.
No, that wasn’t true. I still wanted her just as badly.
“No sex,” she said between her uneven breath. “Including oral.”
It was impossible to know which loss was more disappointing—going down on her, or her going down on me. I loved giving orgasms. Watching a woman come was amazing, and my tongue was my best option for making that happen.
I was pissed it had been taken from me and wanted to take something from them. “All right, but I have a rule for them. They can’t kiss you.”
She jolted. “Anywhere?”
“On the mouth,” I amended. “They can’t kiss you on the lips. That’s mine now.”
She shuddered as if the thought gave her satisfaction, and her fingers coursed through my hair, fingernails scratching against my scalp. I groaned and went back on the attack, plunging my tongue in her mouth, claiming what was mine.
When I’d been satisfied enough for the moment and let her catch her breath, I asked, “Can I touch you?”
“Yeah.” She straightened abruptly, pulling back. “Everywhere—except you can’t put your fingers inside me.”
Irritation flared hot in my chest, and her nervous expression said she wasn’t finished, either. “What else?”