Cillian's fingers slide between mine, his palm warm. “I wanna pull you around the corner and kiss you breathless.”
Fuck it.
“So why are we still standing here?” His surprise quickly melts into a wolfish grin, curling his full lips and crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes in a way that makes me weak.
Judging by the speed at which we round that corner, both of us are committed to outpacing any doubts we may have.
Cillian presses me gently into the brick, his body shielding me from view of the small parking lot. Cupping my jaw tenderly, his thumb traces my bottom lip.
My heart slams against my ribs.
The warmth from his body against mine, the slight whiff of cologne—something peppery and warm with just a touch of floral—rising off him, the weight of his attention. All of him. All of this. It's deliciously overwhelming.
His lips brush mine. A question. An invitation. Giving me space to change my mind.
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
That was all he needed. His hand cradles the back of my skull, protecting my head from the wall behind me, and then?—
The world falls away.
When his mouth drags down my neck and he presses a muscular thigh between my legs, I gasp, unable to care who might hear. My body takes the invitation to grind against him, all of me screaming for more.
Cillian pulls back, holding my head in place with a gentle grip on my hair as I try to chase his kiss. The heat between my legs thrums. He shifts, his knee providing the perfect place topress my need against. And I do, with more than a little shameless abandon.
“Greedy,” he says in a low voice, green eyes burning through dark lashes. I nod, biting my lip to keep from making a noise as he presses his knee up once more. My own knees threaten to buckle, but he moves his hands to my ribs, holding me steady.
I reach for the front of his jeans, stroking the hard length of him through the denim. He presses into my touch, resting his forehead on mine.
“Where?” He asks, voice rough with need.
“Take me home.” An alarm sounds in my head because I'd rather die than bring this man into my apartment. “Your home. Or we can?—”
“Mine's good.” He lowers his mouth to mine again, kissing me until I'm considering how bad it would be to let him fuck me right here. Breaking the kiss, he rests his palms on the wall flanking either side of my head. He drags in a deep breath, “Just need a second.”
An admittedly self-satisfied laugh slips from my lips.
“Don't be so smug,” he teases. His hand shoots down, cupping my very, very wet pussy. “Pretty sure you've soaked through your shorts, doll.” Before he pulls back, I grip his wrist, holding him in place. It feels too good, all of it.
He chuckles. “Impatient, too.” His fingers press against the dampness just enough to turn my spine to liquid.
In a flash, he has my wrist pinned against the wall. “But you're gonna have to wait.” He kisses my shocked expression gently. “Come on.”
I take his offered hand as we walk to where he parked behind Two Sons.
“125 Monument Ln, Charlestown,” Cillian says as he opens the passenger door for me.
“What?” I look up at him, brain still stuck in a lusty haze.
“My address. I'm a stranger and I'm taking you home, I assume you're telling someone where you're going, and if not, you should.”
Yeah. I should.
“Such a good idea,” I say.
“I have my moments.”
I pull my phone from my bag, planning to go through the motions to at least make him think I was being remotely responsible with my personal safety and not flinging myself into the sun.
