I watched her body as she walked, appreciating the slope of her back, the curve of her tight little ass. I needed an excuse to get up and follow her, to stand behind her with my hardening desire, to press it against her and work our bodies out of our clothes.
“Who’s the artist?” she asked absently, her attention taken by the lines and shapes, the smudges and sprinkles of paint spread over the mostly white canvas that took up most of the wall. That was my cue to pursue her.
“It’s a local artist,” I told her as I got up from the couch to follow her. “I had it commissioned when I moved in.”
“You don’t strike me as the artsy type,” she said, amused, looking back at me as I walked up to her.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I just like her work,” I told her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her back to me. She leaned her head back on my shoulder, still looking at the painting, still laughing at me.
“Oh, it’s a she now? I bet you did like her work,” Sasha teased.
“I did,” I said as I turned my attention away from the painting and to the lovely tanned neck presenting itself to me. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I leaned in and gently placed my lips against her warm, smooth skin.
She moaned and grabbed the back of my head, holding me in place on her neck as I kissed her. She melted against me.
I could feel the shape of her body perfectly underneath the clothes I gave her. I pressed myself between the curves of her ass.
She turned her face to me, and our lips met, sending electricity through my body. The pleasure of the touch of her soft lips against mine surged through me, hardening my shaft against her. Our mouths opened, and our tongues met in the middle, twisting around each other, stroking each other.
Sasha turned around and pressed her breasts against me. They were full and round, though perky and petite. I put my free hand on the small of her back and pulled her smooth, flat stomach against me while my lips pressed against her mouth and my tongue probed deep into her.
At that moment, I knew I could have had her. I knew if one of us didn’t pull away soon, we were going to end up on the couch, the floor, the bed, somewhere, naked, joined at the hip with my cock deep inside her. I didn’t want to give it to her too quickly, though. I wanted to build up her desire for me, her longing, her need for me, so that once we did come together, I would have more control over the situation.
I pulled slowly away, and our eyes opened to greet each other.
“Forget the whiskey, I could use more of that,” Sasha said to me, pressing a hungry hand against my chest while she took another sip from her glass.
“Well, play time’s over for now,” I told her. “We’ve got to get back to HQ.”
“I thought we were through with you trying to get secrets out of me,” she said, her voice heavy with warmth and desire.
“Yeah, but that’s not what I want out of you now,” I told her, letting the obvious suggestion hang in the air between us.
“Really,” she said with a sexy little grin. “What about my clothes?”
“We’ll handle that.”
Chapter 7
Sasha
My mind was reeling from how quickly everything was moving all of a sudden. When we got back to HQ, Cole called a meeting. I quickly excused myself, not wanting to infringe on anything too private, though I knew I was missing important information that Fang would have wanted by dipping out of the meeting. I was on the verge of panic. I needed to get in touch with Fang to ground myself again.
I had charged my phone while I was at Cole’s apartment. Carrying my backpack into the bathroom with me, I had plugged it in under his counter. When I fished it back out at HQ, it had just enough battery life for me to try to call my boss. I couldn’t risk trying to listen to all the voicemails he’d left me and killing my phone in the process.
I hurried downstairs to the basement, sure I would be alone to talk freely away from everyone’s prying eyes and ears. It went to voicemail after a few rings. I checked over my shoulder to see if anyone was around before leaving a message in a hushed voice.
“Hey, it’s me. I don’t have long. My phone’s about to die. I wanted to let you know I’m okay. I haven’t listened to your messages, but I’m okay. I’ll get back in touch as soon as I can,” I said quickly.
I disconnected the call and put the phone away in the pocket of the jeans Cole had bought me on the way in from his apartment. All of the clothes I was wearing were new, all purchased with the sizes I told him, but bought with his tastes in mind. I thought I looked damn good with the flowing, low cut black top, the tight jeans that loved my ass, and the perfect bra and panties that told me exactly what he had in mind for later. Having these clothes on was like having his hands on me. It was a delicious feeling.