Page 23 of One Little Favor
His eyes are trained on my face with such intensity I go still.
“What makes you think I changed my mind?” His words are low with a dangerous edge.
I gulp. I’ve seen this side of Tom before—hyperfocused to the point that it’s unnerving—and while it’s sexy as hell, his unwavering focus is also borderline scary. I look at him as his hazard lights flash behind him, turning my entire street into an orange disco. “Well, the minute I mentioned something happening between us tonight, you withdrew. I put my hand on your dick, Tom, and you didn’t even react.”
God, I hope everyone’s windows are shut tight, because my voice is ridiculously loud on this silent side street. In the eerie silence, Tom doesn’t respond. Instead, he reaches for my hand and slips it inside his jacket, right against his crotch.
“Do you feel how hard I am for you right now? I’ve been like this for fuckinghours. And tonight, after I finish what I need to go take care of, when I’m in the shower fucking my hand, I’ll be imagining your mouth on my cock, or fucking you in my office. Like I always do. So I don’t want to hear another word about how you think I’ve magically changed my mind and am not into you after a year of being absolutely fucking obsessed with your every move. After memorizing every word you’ve ever said to me, every outfit you’ve ever worn, the way your face looks in every possible emotion.” He presses his hips forward, sliding along my hand where it remains, frozen in lust and confusion. “Do not even entertain the idea that I could spend a night at dinner with you and have done anything else besides fall even more under your spell. Because that’s what you do, Avery, you bring people to you. And don’t for a second doubt yourself, or doubt my feelings for you.” He reaches up, tipping my chin up with his knuckles. “Okay?”
My breath is ragged and I stutter, “Y-yeah.”
“So here’s how this is going to go,” he says. “I’m going to kiss you good night. And then you’re going to go inside and get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning, and I promise I’ll be able to explain everything.”
I nod, because words have failed me. He kisses me like he’s punishing me for questioning his feelings, for thinking he could deny what is between us. He kisses me like he can’t get enough, like this kiss is all that’s between him and a night in his cold, lonely bed by himself.
And when he pulls back, I bring my fingers to my nearly bruised lips, wondering why that was maybe the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me. He kisses me on the bridge of my nose and whispers, “Go inside before I change my mind and ruin everything just to spend one night with you.”
CHAPTER8
TOM
I’m pretty sure that this is either the best decision I’ve ever made in my life, or I’m about to get arrested for kidnapping.
I find Avery’s door at the end of the hallway on the sixth floor, and knock twice before she cracks the door open. Her wet hair is in a bun on top of her head, and her wet body is wrapped in a towel. “When you said you were coming over this morning, I didn’t think you meant in mere minutes. Aren’t you supposed to be in the office taking a deposition right now?”
“I got Jones to do it for me,” I tell her. “We have much more important things to take care of today.”
“Like your furniture delivery?”
“Nope, your friend Taryn is going to handle that for us.”
She pulls the door open farther. “Taryn’s in Poughkeepsie with her family for Christmas.”
“Correction, shewasin Poughkeepsie with her family. Now she’s headed to Manhattan for the day.”
Avery eyes me skeptically. “And why would she do that?”
“If I gave you all the details of my master plan, it would ruin the surprise.”
“What surprise?” she asks, holding the door open far enough that I take it as an invitation to come in.
“The one I’ve planned for you.”
She steps back to give me room to close the door behind me, and the minute that door is shut, she presses up on her toes and skims her lips along mine.
I step back against the door and pull her with me, and she presses her entire body against the front of mine. Then she reaches up and cups my face in her hands. “Please tell me we have the time to finally get naked together.”
I tilt my head back against the door and groan in frustration.
“Don’t even say,” she says, an edge to her voice, “that you have me pressed up against you, naked under this towel, and you’re going to put this off. Again.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I sigh. “But I need you to dry your hair and get dressed, and pack for a few days, and be ready to leave here in”—I glance down at my watch—“fifty-five minutes.”
“Fifty-five minutes? To get readyandpack? That’s impossible. What am I even packing for?”
“Warm weather. It’s freezing here, and neither of us have any good reason to stay in New York for Christmas. So we’re going somewhere tropical instead.”
Her eyes widen, and her lips part, but no words come out. “Your surprise is avacation?”
