“No one had to tell me. I’ve warned you that you wear every emotion in those big doe eyes of yours,” Sloane whispered, her lips brushing against Ari’s mouth as she spoke.
The slight contact was the errant spark too close to a powder keg. Ari ignited. The restraints that held her together for so long tore and snapped under the strain.
Wrapping her arms around Sloane’s neck, Ari craned her head, closing the infinitesimal gap between them. With all the unspoken desire, longing, jealousy, and anger that had been roiling inside her, Ari claimed Sloane’s lips.
Sloane’s grip on the back of her neck tightened as she pressed against Ari’s lips, parting them. When her warm tongue slipped inside, Ari groaned. Clawing at Sloane’s blouse, she pulled her in, needing to be closer. Sloane obliged, pressing her weight against her as she slipped her leg between Ari’s knees. Parting them.
Their kiss was desperate, frantic, ravenous. All the nights Ari spent fantasizing about this moment paled in comparison to the reality of Sloane’s teeth scraping her lips.
&nbs
p; Of her fingers tangling in her hair and pulling in time with the languid rhythm of her tongue.
Without warning, Sloane pulled her head back as she tore away from her lips. The moment she was gone, Ari ached for her return. She never wanted to do anything but kiss her for the rest of her life.
Before Ari could speak, Sloane’s mouth was back, hot and wet against the vein throbbing in Ari’s neck.
“God,” Ari groaned, her legs weakening as she rested against the door, powerless to hold herself up.
Sloane’s hands wrapped around her waist, holding her steady as she bit Ari’s sensitive skin. Her core ached.
Instinctively, she sought the friction of Sloane’s thigh, pressing against her to ease the painful need but unable to get enough. Why had she worn a tight skirt, today of all days.
. .
In a rush, Ari broke free, shoving Sloane o her. For a second, Sloane’s wide, hazel eyes looked wild and confused as she braced herself against her desk.
Ari was on her before she could speak, kissing her hard.
After running her hands down Sloane’s hips, Ari gripped her thighs. In a single, fluid motion, she lifted Sloane just enough to sit her on the desk.
“We should lock the door,” Sloane said in a deep, syrupy voice as she threw her head back, giving Ari access to her long neck.
Ari agreed but didn’t waste any time in saying so aloud.
She darted for the door behind her. “It doesn’t have a lock,”
she said, her heart hammering in a mix of lust and panic.
Ari spotted a doorstop. If it could keep it propped open, it could certainly keep it from opening. After wedging it in the gap, Ari returned to Sloane’s arms.
“Who knew you’d turn into a little MacGyver in situations such as these,” Sloane said, wiping the lipstick that had smeared o her kiss-swollen lips.
“Who?”
“Never mind,” she said, jumping o the desk before spinning Ari around and perching her on the edge where
she’d just been sitting. “I used to watch a lot of old TV as a kid.”
Ari hooked her fingers in the waistband of Sloane’s pants and yanked her in. “I can’t wait to be regaled with stories of your viewing habits. But maybe not now,” she said before crashing her lips into hers.
Sloane responded to Ari’s joke by sliding her hands up her thighs, pushing the fabric of the skirt until it was around her waist. Her sudden roughness caught Ari o guard, making her breath hitch and her mouth drop in a silent scream.
Ari’s need exploded into uncontrollable hunger. Looping her legs around Sloane’s hips, she locked her in. Pens fell o the desk and crashed on the carpeted floor followed by a pile of papers after Sloane pushed into her, spilling her back.
Unable to care about the racket they were making, Ari untucked Sloane’s blouse, reaching under the silk to feel the soft skin of her back and the goosebumps forming over it.
Acting on impulse, she dug her nails into her flesh, eliciting a gasp. Sloane countered immediately by biting down on Ari’s bottom lip. The pain sent a rush of heat to her aching core.