Page 324 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“You’re goddamn right . . . so is that a yes?”

“Yes,” I grunt as his hand on my ass slides inside the waistband of my shorts.

The thumb on his other hand brushes the underside of my breast. A tease. A taunt. A promise of what’s to come.

“But there are rules,” I say before he goes to kiss me again, and I earn a chuckle as he rests his forehead against mine.

“I thought we already covered them?”

“We did, but—ahhh.”

His teeth tug on my earlobe and cause an electric current to shock through my system.

“You were saying?” His breath is warm against my skin as he asks.

“Before was a one-night thing,” I say, but his lips on my neck are making it hard to string thoughts let alone coherent sentences together. “And now we’re agreeing to more.”

“Em.” It’s part groan, part moan when his lips try to brush against mine as I take a step backward up the stairs. It’s only a fleeting moment that we’re apart before our mouths crash back together in a torrent of greed and need.

“No romance.”

It’s getting harder to remember the things I want to address as my body ignites with every kind of want imaginable.

“Naturally.”

He places open-mouthed kisses down the line of my jaw, drawing goose bumps over my skin as we take another step up.

“No lovey-dovey.”

“You’re not the lovey-dovey type.”

He pulls gently on my earlobe, the heat of his mouth only intensifying the sensation as the ache intensifies between my thighs.

“No overnights.”

His hand slides beneath my shirt and begins working on the clasp of my bra as his lips close over the peak of my nipple through the fabric.

“Not unless we’re doing this.”

Another step up.

“No dates. No dating. No semblance of dating.”

“You’re talking too much,” His words are punctuated with a nip before his lips find mine again and his fingers find the button on my shorts.

“Grant.” I step up to get away and stand my ground, but I know it’s for show. I’m too far gone, too lost in Lustville to push him away.

“Yes. No dates. Or dating. Or eating. Or talking. Or whatever you want so long as you shut your mouth unless it’s kissing me and put your hand on my dick because, baby, I’m dying here.”

I lean back and meet his eyes. There’s humor there. And desperation.

My fingers find the button on his jeans, and he groans when I find purchase. After I tug the zipper down, I cup him and gently scrape my fingers outside and over the seam of denim, causing the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard to emit from deep in his throat.

“I know I’m forgetting something,” I say as my lips find the curve of his neck, and he climbs the final step.

“Your keys. You’re forgetting your keys,” he says through a laugh as I go to pull my hand away from his dick, but his fingers are on my wrist in a flash. “That’s not going anywhere, Em. Give me the keys, I’ll open it.”

In seconds, my keys are out of my purse and my door is open and we’re standing in the dark with my hand on his cock and my rules wedged securely between us.