“All bark and no bite,” I purr. “I fucking knew it.”
His jaw clenches so hard I see the muscle tick beneath his beard. For a second, I think he’s going to pull away, play the good guy again, and feed me some righteous line about how I’m tipsy and he’s not that kind of man, and how I’m his best friend’s daughter, blah blah blah.
“Don’t play with me, Catalina,” he growls, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Oh, I know exactly what I’m fucking asking for,” I bite back, brushing my lips along his beard, not kissing, just torturing. “But like I said… no bite. All that build-up, and nothing to show for it.”
I press into him shamelessly, letting myself grind on him, every aching inch of my body’s pressed into his jeans. I feel it the moment I hit him—hard, thick, and unmistakably turned on.
His cock strains against his zipper, and the second itpushes into my lower belly, my breath catches, heat floods down my spine and straight between my thighs.
The air thickens, humming with tension, with hunger, with the unmistakable electricity of two people about to do somethingstupid.
Tilting my chin up, I watch him like I’m daring him to make the next move, and I catch the exact moment something in him breaks. His gaze flicks down to my lips like he’s seconds from claiming them, then they trail back up to my eyes.
God, my whole body fucking aches for him.
Just one taste of him,one.
There’s a flicker of hesitation on his face, like he’s still trying to convince himself to be the better man. But that version of him doesn’t stand a chance anymore.
It’s impossible to hide it now, not with the way I’m looking at him as my gaze burns holes into his face.
And not with the way my body is pressed so close to his that he could count the beats of my heart, one by one, as if they already belong to him.
His hand grabs me quickly, pulling me closer to him, closing what little space we had left. Our bodies slam together, the contact overwhelming in a way that makes it hard to think.
One hand cups my jaw, not gently, but with purpose, like he needs to feel something real. His thumb moves slowly across my cheek, a quiet contrast to the way he’s holding the rest of me so tightly. His gaze pins mine, one last warning flickering through those stormy blues.
This is your out, princess.
I imagine him saying, but nothing escapes his lips. I don’t move, not even a fucking flickerof hesitation.
He dips his head lower, and the second his mouth finds mine, I come undone in ways I can’t take back.
His lips part against mine, as his tongue slips between them, stroking deep with a slow drag that sends a hot pulse of need through my entire body. It’s messy, breathless, and our tongues slide together with friction that makes my knees buckle. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and a low groan vibrates in his throat when I suck lightly on his bottom lip before biting down just hard enough to make him curse under his breath.
I can taste him—peppermint with a hint of bourbon.
A moan slips out before I can stop it, and he groans against my lips. He pulls back just enough to catch his breath, then presses his face into the curve of my neck, his breath hot and uneven against my skin as he trails kisses down the tender curvature of my throat.
“Fuck, Catalina,” he rasps, hot breath skimming my skin before his tongue follows it, swirling slowly against the sensitive slope of my throat like he already knows how to make me melt. “You taste like trouble.”
“And you taste like frustration,” I pant, my hips grinding up into his thigh without a single ounce of shame. “Bet you’ve been dying to do this since the first time I called you an asshole.”
“I’ve been dying to shut you the fuck up,” he growls, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, his fingers digging in like he’s two seconds from losing control completely. “But not like this, not with your smart little mouth begging for it.”
“Then do it,” I whisper against his jaw, letting my teeth scrape lightly against the scruff of his beard. “Prove it. Show me what all that control’s been hiding.”
He crashes his mouth against mine again, deeper thistime, kissing me like he’s furious I make him feel this much. His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back just enough to control the angle, while his other hand grips my waist, slamming me into the wall.
His body pins me in place, grinding his hips into mine. I feel the thick length of his cock pressing against my hip through his jeans, the contact alone sends a bolt of heat straight through me. A breathy moan escapes me, spilling into his mouth. My thighs press tightly together as a sharp pulse of need builds between them, my pussy clenching with an ache that’s impossible to ignore.
“You like teasing, huh?” he hisses against my lips, gently biting my lower lip. “You like grinding on strangers, acting like you don’t already belong to me?”
“I like watching you lose your shit,” I shoot back, breathless, my head tilted as I meet his stare. “I like knowing I’m the one who finally broke you.”
His eyes darken, as his grip tightens, and he presses his body flush to mine, every inch of him vibrating with restraint that’s barely holding. When he finally rips himself away, both of us gasping for breath, his forehead drops to mine, our chests rising and falling in sync like we’ve just survived something cataclysmic.
