We make it as far as the front door of the pub before we fall into each other’s arms again. The second we step outside and cool night air hits us, it seems to go straight to our heads. He kisses me hard, backs me up against the wall of the building, and I lift one leg to wrap it around his waist as we kiss, burying my hands in his hair.
“I have to admit, this seems like an even worse hookup spot than the restroom,” I gasp when we finally part for air again, both of us breathing hard. His cock digs into my thigh now, and I fight the urge to inch my hips a few inches sideways and grind my clit against his hard length. I’m already wet enough, soaking straight through these thin panties.
“I can’t wait to tear this dress off you,” he murmurs into my neck, his voice low, almost a growl now. “You make me want to take you right here, right now.”
I shiver in anticipation, arching into him. “I want you to take me however you want me,” I whisper.
In response, he catches my hand, pulling me away from the wall and into a brisk walk. As we walk, he casts a grin down at me. “I can be patient… For now.”
Those words reverberate through me as we cross the blocks to our building. When I was walking here tonight, it felt close. Now, it feels like an eternity. An agonizing wait, when all I want to do is jump Zayne’s bones right here.
We run up against a red light, and he takes advantage of the moment to bury one hand in my hair, kissing me once more, hard and deep. His tongue slides between my lips, and I twine my tongue around his, soaking in his taste, his scent, his heat, the feel of his hot lips on mine, his sharp stubble against my cheek.
“Who’s my naughty girl?” he murmurs against my mouth, and I sink into him, letting him take control.
His hands grip my ass, lift me half off the curb as he crushes me against him, and I tilt my head, part my mouth to let him take what he wants from me.
“You like that?” He squeezes my ass again, harder, and I grin into his kiss, arching against him. “You like it rough, Clove?”
“Fuck yes.” I bite his lower lip for emphasis, and he growls, practically lifting me off the ground and grinding his hips against mine.
“Good. Because I don’t want to go easy on you.”
I lean back far enough to catch his eye, my own alight with desire. “Don’t you dare.”
His grin widens. “Be careful what you wish for, dirty girl.”
In response, I wriggle my ass, which grinds our hips together, his thick cock pinned between us, digging into my belly. He slaps my ass, not hard, but enough to make me startle and jump against him. He grins and leans in to catch my earlobe between his teeth and bite down, just hard enough to make me gasp.
“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you…”
Then, without warning, he pulls away, and it takes me a second to breathe in enough oxygen to remember where we are. What we’re doing. Because we’re still standing on a street corner in the middle of the city, and the light has just changed. I trail after him, across the road, head swimming, cheeks on fire. Normally I hate PDA, but with Zayne, I didn’t even remember we were still in public. When he touches me, everything else fades into the background. I could be anywhere, doing anything, and all I can see, all I can feel or hear or taste or think about, is him.
He’s dangerous, I think. But even worse?
I like it.
We finally reach the building lobby, and Paul buzzes us in. To judge by the way his eyebrows rise and his gaze darts between us, to call him “surprised” would be the understatement of the year.
But Paul is nothing if not the consummate professional. So after a moment of gaping, he simply bows his head. “Zayne. Ms. Walker.”
“Evening, Paul,” Zayne says with a wink as we saunter past him, arms wrapped around each other’s waists.
“Hello,” I manage, still embarrassed, still feeling my cheeks burn white-hot. This is what it will be like if things go sour with Zayne, I remind myself. I’ll have to walk past him every day, have awkward conversations like this one.
“Lovely night out,” Paul is saying as he digs under the counter. “Ms. Walker, you had a package…”
Zayne shoots me a sideways grin. “What was that about you not ordering too much on Amazon?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll pick it up tomorrow, thanks so much, Paul.”
“Of course.” His eyes trail us all the way to the elevator, and I wonder suddenly if there are security cameras in here. If he’s going to see that we push floor 11, where Zayne must live, instead of floor 5, where I live.