Page 80 of Business Casual
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
He leans forward until he can tuck both of his palms behind my thighs. “Yeah.” He yanks once and I go tumbling in his lap. I rest my elbows on his shoulders, my mouth hovering right above his as I get comfortable. I peck his nose once. Because I can. Because I want to. And because his face lights up when I do.
“Look at you being nice,” he murmurs, palms dragging up thebacks of my thighs, fingers flexing against the curve of my ass. “Who knew you had it in you?”
“I’m about to have something in me.”
A laugh bursts out of him, quick and delighted. “Nova Porter, what in the hell am I going to do with you?”
I trace my fingers along his jaw, down the line of his throat to the hollow between his collarbones. It’s the best sort of indulgence to touch him like this after convincing myself I shouldn’t. Like taking a bite of apple pie after committing to strictly salads. I want to sink my teeth right into Charlie.
He leans his head back against the couch and watches me with heavy eyes, my fingertips dancing down his chest to curl in the bottom of his sweater. I tug at it once and he lifts his arms with a smirk. I tug again until it’s over his head and he’s nothing but bare skin and smooth muscle in the hazy glow of my living room. He spreads his arms across the back of the couch as I perch in his lap, arm muscles flexing. I want to bite those too.
“How would you like me, Nova girl?”
My smile turns sharp and Charlie swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. I sink closer to him until our hips are pressed together and my mouth is a whisper from his.
“I like when you ask me that,” I confess.
“I like asking it.” His hands flex against the top of the couch. He’s holding himself back, waiting for direction, and I like that too.
“I know you do.” I grab the hem of my T-shirt and pull it over my head. My hair tumbles around my shoulders, and Charlie releases a breath like he’s just been punched in the chest. I drag my finger down the rose between my breasts. “Would you like to touch me, Charlie?”
He’s busy looking at the lavender lace against my skin, the demi-cup bra that barely covers me. It’s fancy and impractical and I love it.
His tongue licks at the corner of his mouth. “Do you even need to ask that question?”
“You’re not the only one that likes words,” I say.
His eyes flick up to mine and hold, a flash of awareness that flares and fades like a single firework in an inky-black night sky. “Yeah, Nova. I’d like to touch you.” He pushes off the back of the couch until we’re nose to nose, his chest pressed tight to mine. One of his hands finds the middle of my back, fingertips spread wide. “Would you like to hear about all the ways I’ve thought about touching you since I left your bed?”
I nod and wrap my arms around his neck. His skin is sowarm.“Yes, please.”
His other hand finds the side of my face, fingers anchored in my hair. He guides my mouth to his and brushes a gentle kiss against my bottom lip. Another when I sigh against him.
“I’ve thought about kissing you a million times. Probably more.” His thumb drags against my bottom lip, and I nip at it with my teeth. “I thought about that pretty flower between your pretty tits and kissing that too.” He huffs a laugh. “How much do you want to hear?”
“Everything.”
“Everything, huh?”
“Yeah.” I take up the abandoned effort of his pants and slip his belt through the loops, tossing it behind me. He lifts his hips while I work at the button and zipper, the both of us shifting and wiggling and tugging to get them off. They stay trapped around one ankle when his hands settle at my hips, his forehead against the rose he likes so much, his breaths panting and heavy through delicate lace.
“I wanted to kiss you in my kitchen, and I wanted to peel off your sweater. I wanted to put you on your knees and wrap your braid around my fist. Fuck, Nova.” Another breath explodes out of him. “Every time I look at you, I only want you more. I want to keep you in this lace and I want to rip it off. I want to fuck you until neither of us can move.”
I thread my fingers through his and squeeze. “Okay.”
He brushes his mouth over the petals of my red rose and looks up at me through his lashes. “Okay?”
“Mm-hmm, let’s do that. All of it.” I squeeze his hand again. “Where would you like to start?”
His eyes flash a shade darker, consideration in the set of his jaw. “I want to make you come.”
My belly clenches tight, warm, liquid heat in the place where our hips are pressed together. I shift on his lap, then shift again when I feel the hard length of him pressing exactly right.
“I’m still wearing my underwear,” I point out.
He tilts his head to the side and sighs happily, like he’s just remembered and he’s pleased by the fact. He fingers the strap of my bra, running his pointer finger beneath. He smiles at the tiny bow that holds it all together. “That feels like a challenge, Nova.”
