“You gonna show me, boss?”
“You still want to learn?”
“If you want to teach me.”
She’s not talking about the dance anymore and neither is he.
His fingertips drift up the line of her back before they dive into her curls, cupping the back of her head, tilting it to the perfect angle as he lowers his mouth to hers.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” she murmurs, just before their lips meet and she groans into the kiss as she wraps her arms around his neck, running her tongue along his bottom lip. Slipping her tongue inside, she teases hers against his until he chases hers back and she groans into his mouth, letting him know how much she likes it.
One hand busy in her hair, the other slides down to her hip before edging around to her ass, running his fingers over the easy rise, squeezing gently and then with more purpose as her hips grind against his.
“Like that?” he asks, pulling away from the kiss, guiding their lower bodies together as his mouth drops to her neck, almost immediately finding that spot he knows she likes.
“Just like that,” she gasps.
He spins them around and walks her backward until her calves hit the wood of her coffee table and with a nudge of his hips, she takes her cue easily and sits back while he drops to his knees in front of her.
Ducking down, he runs his nose up the seam of her thighs to the hem of her skirt, nudging it up as he turns his head andpresses a soft kiss to the newly revealed skin. Her legs fall open as he presses forward, hands pushing the skirt up the rest of the way as he leans in to meet his mouth with hers again.
“Did you mean what you said in that text?”
“Stop teasing,” she protests.
“C’mon, boss, tell me what you want,” he practically growls against her as she tries to strain closer.
“I want you. Fuck, Xavier, I want your mouth on me.”
His eyes light up, pure joy radiating from him as he surges forward for a kiss, hot and open, and as she groans into it, he moves away, his hands mapping the peaks and valleys of her body. She arches into his touch, wanting to feel skin against skin. Pushing him away, she reaches down and yanks her blouse up over her head, knocking off the clip that was holding her hair back with the motion, her locks spilling around her shoulders as she tosses the shirt away.
“These curves, Bianca,” he says, one hand rising to cup her breast, the other landing at her hip to pull her closer. “Absolutely perfection.”
She wants to laugh, and a small chuckle escapes before she can stop it. She knows her body meets very few universal beauty standards – too short overall, too soft in some spots, a bit uneven in others and the ability to grow a startling amount of hair in places she doesn’t want it to. She made peace with that a long time ago, but honestly, who the fuck is she to argue with Xavier on it? If he thinks she’s perfect, then for at least right now, she’s going to feel perfect.
Leaning forward to kiss him again, she sighs into his mouth as his hands find purchase against her thighs, slowly easing them apart as he moves between them. Wordlessly, he shifts backward, lowering his mouth over the rise of her breasts, down between them to her belly button, which he circles with his tongue, making her squirm.
“Xavier,” she says.
“Yeah, I know,” he answers and then finally, he reaches his target, his pinky fingers slipping under the elastic at her hips, sliding her panties down her legs and tossing them behind him. “Finally,” he says with a sigh as he shifts down between her legs.
“Really?” she asks breathlessly, quirking an eyebrow despite how close to the edge he’s driven her in the last few minutes.
“I’ve been thinking about this since the day I met you. I don’t even know how I got through that first class. I just kept thinking about sitting you up on your desk and going down on you for hours.”
And she’s laughing again at how ridiculous they’ve both been this whole time, both instantly wanting each other and neither one of them saying anything.
His grin widens at the sound and then fades as her laughter does and she wonders if it’s for the same reason. Because even if they’d acted on it back then, they’d still be in the same place right now and it would probably be so much worse.
“Well, we’re here now,” she says finally, “what are you going to do about it?”
“I told you I could die here a happy man. I plan to make good on my word.”
Then it’s his wicked mouth and his clever tongue and the rasp of his scruff on the inside of her thighs. He presses in, hooking her legs over his shoulders.
“Bianca,” he says, “look at me. Open your eyes.”
