Page 37 of Be With Me
Those lips. Those goddamn lips. I wanted to bite into them. To find out what they tasted like.
Why the fuck not?
Outside, the city churned—car horns, footsteps, the distant hum of voices—but here, in this studio, we were in a bubble. A charged, electric bubble neither of us appeared willing to break.
I leaned down, shrinking the distance between us until my nose nearly brushed against hers.
Was I fully in control? Not really. But I was here to find leverage, and this felt like moving roughly in the right direction. I’d find some way to use this. Eventually.
Just as I was about to satiate my curiosity, she jerked her hands out of my loosened grip and said, “Yes. Thatiswhat I want.”
The moment snapped.
Clearing her throat, she sidestepped me, grabbed a suit jacket off the rack, and held it out. “Put this on.” There was a slight tremble in her voice.
I dragged my tongue over my teeth. Annoyed. Frustrated. Turned on. “Sure.”
She busied herself with straightening out some clothes, pretending she wasn’t affected by what just happened. But she wasn’t fooling me.
Jacket on, I strode toward the full-length mirror.
“It’s too tight in the shoulders.” She appeared behind me with a piece of measuring tape. Her hands smoothed over my upper back, dragging down my arms as she assessed the fit. “And the sleeves are too short.”
Her touch was light, barely there. But it might as well have been a brand.
I grunted like I agreed and clenched my fists against the heat tunneling through my body. Why couldn’t I shake it off?
“I was hoping to use this suit as the base of the look,” she said. “I’ll have to sew some of the embellishments on.” She moved around to my front, tugging on the front of the jacket, brushing her fingers along the collar. Her brow furrowed in concentration, oblivious—or maybe pretending to be—while my body went tight as a wire.
“This works.” Her fingers grazed just beneath my ear as she adjusted the neckline. “I want you to keep it buttoned all the way up.”
And I wanted her on her knees in front of me, those pretty doe eyes looking up as her lips wrapped around my?—
I clenched my jaw and dragged my gaze away from her, cursing under my breath as I willed my stiffening dick back under control.
When was the last time a woman touched you like this?a voice in the back of my mind whispered.
It wasn’t sexual, just…intimate. So why the fuck was this such a turn-on?
“Okay, I think I have what I need.” She dragged her hand down my back one more time. “You can go change now.”
The dressing room was a relief—a much-needed fucking chance to breathe.
I yanked off the jacket and forced my mind elsewhere. Torture. Nails scraping on a chalkboard. The smell of week-old garbage—anything to get my dick down.
“When are we meeting next?” I asked once I stepped back out.
Mia took the clothes from me. “Once I have the alterations done. Let’s plan for Tuesday next week. That will give us a few days before the dinner on Saturday to fine-tune anything.” She glanced away, moving to put everything back on the rack.
While she wasn’t looking, I swiped her lip gloss off her desk and shoved it into my pocket.
Why? Fuck if I knew. Probably because I was losing my goddamn mind.
I walked out of there frustrated, feeling like I'd lost the round.
Next time I came back, I was going to make sure I got some sleep. Because this game between us was only getting started.
CHAPTER11
