She tugged me forward. I covered her mouth more fully with mine, licking my tongue against her lips. Immediately—no hesitation—she opened up and her tongue came out to taste mine. I groaned, or she did, it didn’t matter. I felt her tremble and I wanted to hold her.
Completely forgetting all my earlier levelheaded ideas about limiting my touch to her face, my arms moved around her waist and my fingers immediately massaged and caressed the bare skin of her back. God, she was so fucking soft. Like silk. I brought her flush against me. She released the front of my jacket and slipped her hands beneath, holding me with equal force.
And what started as a very appropriate kiss quickly escalated into basically me trying to eat her face off, because she tasted so fucking good. I was in very real danger of doing something that was illegal in fourteen of the forty-eight contiguous states. Everything was legal in Alaska. In all fairness, she was biting and sucking on my lips like they were made of Kat-nip.
This woman, the taste of her was something I would never recover from. Heaven. I couldn’t think.
That wasn’t true, I could think, but it was all urges and need. I needed more of her.
Before I knew what I was doing, I walked her backward. Why I did this or where I thought we were going, I had no clue. Eventually Kat’s back connected with a wall and—because it was there—I used it as leverage.
Her hands grabbed fistfuls of my shirt and yanked it from my pants, she made a lithe rocking motion against me. I returned it, grinding against her, letting her feel how hard I was and growled into her mouth. Maybe I’d feel like an asshole later, but my thoughts were completely consumed with how beautiful, magnificent, and gorgeous she was like this, and how beautiful, magnificent, and gorgeous she was going to feel when we fucked.
Either she sensed the direction of my thoughts and liked it, or her mind was moving on a similar track, because her hands reached into my pants and she grabbed my ass, kneading it with greedy fingers. She gasped as I bent my head to taste her throat, one leg hooking around mine.
It was at this moment that I thought I heard someone clear his throat.
It sounded far away.
I ignored it.
Sliding my hand from her back, needing more of her, more softness and heat, I cupped her breast over her dress and groaned again, because she wasn’t wearing a bra. She felt perfect, her nipple hard against my palm. Kat covered my hand with hers, her tongue and mouth ambitious as hell, devouring me with each suck and bite. And then I felt her tug my fingers, encouraging me to slip my hand inside her dress, to touch her without any barriers.
I almost did. I almost fucking did.
But then I felt a goddamn tap on my shoulder.
A. Tap.
On. My. Fucking. Shoulder.
Who the fuck would be tapping me on the shoulder and how the hell did they get in here?
Ready to unleash a world of hurt on this asshole, I tore my mouth from her body, and then I . . .
I blinked.
Steven Thompson, from Cypher Systems, accounting department.
He was glancing between us.
“Time’s up. Mr. Lee has to go,” he said, grinning like an idiot. “But don’t worry, I got the whole thing on video.”
Chapter Eleven
Ledipasvir/sofosbuvir: sold under the trade name Harvoni™ among others, is a medication used to treat (and has been shown to cure certain types of) hepatitis C. In the US, Harvoni™ costs $94,500, in Europe less than 50,000 €, and in India (where most international drug patents are not recognized) ~$1,000.
—Hepatitis C Society
**Kat**
Stan glanced at us, squinting at our reflections in the rearview mirror, and then away. He appeared equal parts nervous and confused. His discombobulation didn’t surprise me given our behavior since leaving the Cook County Clerk's office and entering the car.
Wait a minute. I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me back up.
Dan and I kissed.
That happened.
Excuse me while I take a moment for an internal squeal of exhilaration.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
By the time Steven interrupted, it would be inaccurate to label what we were doing as a kiss. We were full-on making out. Therefore, Steven’s interruption had been completely appropriate. Not appropriate, however, making out in the officiant’s office at the Downtown Clerk's office.
No.
Not. Appropriate.
Not responsible behavior.
My only defense was that I had truly lost control of myself, starting with the moment Dan revealed his assumption that I was polyamorous—and that was why he’d put on the brakes after Vegas—and ending with Steven’s interruption. Even in this moment, I was still a little high on his touch, a little loose and uninhibited, and a lot avaricious for it to happen again.