Page 61 of Best Kind of Trouble
Some madness must have possessed me.
That’s the only explanation I have for why I asked Briar if she wanted me to kiss her. The only explanation I have for why I’m kissing her now, even though I know what it could cost me.
But the price doesn’t feel so urgent right now, with Briar’s warm lips on mine and her fragrant hair gathered in my fist. The first kiss is soft, tentative, but I press in closer, needing to feel every inch of her mouth. I want her tongue, her taste. She gives it to me, slanting her head and making a needy little sound in the back of her throat. Like maybe she’s been thinking of this too, ever since we were at the gym together and she threw her first punch.
It feels good in a way so few things do, and at this particular moment, I only care about getting closer.
With my free arm, I tug her into my lap, still kissing her. I sigh into her mouth at the sensation of her weight settling on my lap, her legs tucked on either side of me. Fuck, she’s so perfect there, and I hope to hell she’ll want to stay awhile, even though she must feel how I’m reacting to her. I’m prepared for it towake her up, out of this haze of closeness that’s descended around us.
But instead of getting up, she weaves her hands behind my neck and rocks closer to me, her tongue moving with mine. My hand finds her hip, and I pull her even closer, the feeling of her against me nearly annihilating my brain.
I suck on her bottom lip and then kiss my way down her cheek to her throat, sweet smelling and soft—and then shove her sweater down to kiss the swell of her breasts. God, they’re pretty, and I’ll bet they’d be even prettier if she threw off her sweater and bra to let me suck on her nipples. I want to know what shade of pink they are. I want to know what she’d taste like if she took off her pants and spread her legs for me.
I’d like it all to happen here, so she thinks of it every time she sits down in that rolling chair. So she can’t catch a glimpse of this couch without remembering the things I did to her here.
“Liam,” she says, her voice breathy as she writhes against my needy cock, every movement of her hips making me crazy. “The movie’s over.”
I press another kiss to the curve of her breast, then look up at her in disbelief. “I couldn’t give a fuck. I’m right where I want to be, doing just what I want to be doing.”
Her hips are still making tiny rotations she might not even be aware of, but I know from the look in her eyes that this is about to end.
“You’re going to say this was a mistake,” I muse. The thought makes my dick feel like it just got dunked in ice water, because she’s right. What the fuck am I doing?
I wasn’t supposed to touch her. That’s not what this was about.
I put on the movie because she needed a boost, and I wanted to be the one who delivered it. While I couldn’t give a shit what most people think of me, I’m starting to care a lotabout what this one woman thinks of herself. But I knew the movie was a mistake the minute the opening credits started. Because she was just a whisper away from me, sitting in that office chair.
All I saw was her.
If I hadn’t seen the movie before, I couldn’t have told you a single thing that happened. I was only paying attention to her gasps, her sighs, and the way she leaned forward slightly when something intense was happening on screen.
So, yes, it was a mistake. A stolen moment that should never have happened, but I still don’t move her off my lap. I can’t make myself do something that’s so counter to what I want.
Peering into my eyes, she asks, “Wasn’t it a mistake?” She’s looking at me with such earnestness. She’s pretty when she’s earnest, her eyes big and brown. I get suckered with the need to protect her whenever I look into those eyes, whether she needs or wants it or not.
I tuck her mussed hair behind her ear, then run my fingers along her delicate jaw before leaning in to kiss her sweet mouth one more time.
“Yeah,” I say, inches away from her lips. “But I wouldn’t mind making this particular mistake again.”
“We can’t,” she says, her voice threaded with worry.
At least she sounds sad about it.
I think about Hannah, and how hard it was when the most important person in my life wouldn’t talk to me for months. No, I can’t let that happen again.
“No,” I agree with a sigh. “I guess we can’t.”
Briar finally crawls off my lap, leaving me with a huge hard-on tenting the front of my athletic pants.
She looks at it like she thinks it’s going to wave hello to her, which is actually exactly what it’s doing. She bites her bottomlip, which felt plump and delectable in my mouth. “What are you going to do about that?”
I lift my eyebrows, amused. “Well, I’m glad you asked. You see, I was blessed with two hands?—”
She gasps as if she wasn’t riding my dick through a few layers of fabric ten seconds ago. “You’re going to do thatin here?”
Heat ripples through me. “Wasn’t planning on it, but are you offering me the use of your office?”
She glances at the door again, and then she shocks the hell out of me by nodding. “I’m not going to be in here, though.”
