“I’m completely sure. And I’m hungry. But not for food.” There. Let him process that. I want my intentions to be crystal clear.
“Not hungry for food, Charlie?” He steps forward as I walk toward him.
We meet in the middle of the bar, all the background melting away as we focus solely on each other for the first time in three years. There’s nothing to distract us-- no patrons, no work, no boyfriends or hookups. Finally, it’s just us.
His hands rest on my hips. It’s like we’re on the same wavelength on this crazy day. I’m not sure if it’s the rare blizzard that rages outside, or the fact that I’m leaving in the morning, but Trick and I seem to be reading each other’s minds. We’re both giving in to the attraction we’ve been feeling, because there are no consequences.
“You need to get out of these clothes, Charlie. “ He nips at my bottom lip and tugs the waistband of my jeans.
I return his featherlight kisses, and then stretch my neck back, craving more of his touch. “I really do. Think you could help me with that? You seem to be pretty good at bossing me around,” I tease.
“Damn right I am,” he returns, swatting my ass, and holy hell, I need more of his touch and less of my clothing.
I pull my sweater over my head and toss it so it joins his shirt. My hands fall to my jeans, eager to pull them off, but Trick beats me to it--his fingers expertly unbuttoning them as he falls to his knees in front of me.
God, this is straight out of my fantasies.
His scent is intoxicating. His touch is damn near incinerating. He toys with the button on my jeans until I’m about to melt from lust and need. He slips his hand inside my jeans and I’m ready to come undone. Needing more of his touch, I step out of my jeans, and just as quickly, he pulls me back toward him, his breath hot on my most sensitive skin.
“Jesus, Charlie, I want you.”
“Then take me, Trick.”
