When she slid her fingers up to his jaw, he tore free, panting, jamming his fingers into his hair, his face hard and raw. “Go home,” he rasped. “Now!”
Chloe panted in disbelief. Graves looked wild, like an animal, and about to fuck the living daylights out of her in Luke’s living room. Her pussy gripped, because she wanted him so much, but she’d promised him, and she couldn’t bear to have lied. “I’ll … okay. Okay, I’m leaving.”
She ducked as she pulled the door open and rushed to the elevator, too unsettled by his kiss to even look back when he commanded, his voice roughened with anger, “Call me when you get there!”
* * *
Frowning darkly, Graves pounded on the wireless keyboard hooked to Luke’s system and typed in a long security code, a sector of his brain working on autopilot.
Which was a good thing; that it could actually work.
Because the rest of him was consumed, every sinew, tissue, muscle, nerve, and bone in his body, consumed by Chloe Lexington.
His mouth still burned with the taste of her. His blood stormed hot through his veins and his cock kept pushing up into his pants when he remembered their kiss.
It had been almost three hours since she’d left and it was well past midnight, and Chloe hadn’t called. She was irking him. Deliberately provoking him. Still determined to give some motherfucker her virginity, Holy God.
I want you so much. Please let me taste you.
Her voice flicked through him like an angel’s wing, telling him she wanted him, needed him. Graves ruthlessly suppressed a shudder as the wet flicks of her greedy little tongue came vividly back to his mind.
Sitting tense at Luke’s acrylic desk with every one of his muscles contracted, his hands paused on the keyboard and he stared off into nothingness, his chest cramping. He couldn’t believe he’d kissed her like that. That kiss … It had been hours ago, and his body still raged hot and hard for her. Was she as affected as he was?
Was she wet, while he was so damned hard?
He could still taste her in his mouth. Maybe she was right, maybe he just didn’t like to kiss the women he was with. Because Chloe’s kiss could’ve driven him to orgasm. No tobacco taste like those few awkward kisses he’d shared with his first whores. No taste of stale alcohol, of bitterness, of poverty. No. Chloe tasted rich and luscious and minty. It was all freshness, and female, and her. Fuck, that kiss had been as intimate a thing as he’d ever allowed himself in his life, and the worst part was, it was still not enough. Graves had trembled with the need to get closer to her. To bury his tongue as deep as he could fucking go and bury his cock in the opposite direction until he’d impaled her so well and so hard he became one with her.
Jesus, what had he been thinking?
Did he think he could resist the woman of his fantasies?
He’d fallen for her bait, ready to make her go back home and out of Preston’s place before the jealousy ripped him in two. But damn it, he’d thought he’d have more control, more reserve, that he would just give her the kiss and send her on her way, maybe even torment her a little for tempting him like she had.
But no.
Hell, no.
In his entire life, no kiss had ever knocked him out like hers had. No kiss had ever shot straight to his balls and made his cock jump and twitch from the intense pleasure. Jesus. She’d made him like it. Hell, she’d made him love it, and she’d made him want more so fiercely that he’d been a breath away from tearing her clothes off and fucking the heck out of her on Luke’s floor.
Damn, he had it bad for her. So damned bad he felt big inside his skin, stretched to his limits, bursting because he was in love with this girl and she was pushing him so hard he didn’t know what to do with her.
Oh, yeah, he wanted her. He’d die for her. And she wanted him back.
But starting something with Chloe wasn’t as easy as it sounded. He knew full well that Chloe would push him so damned far beyond where he’d ever been pushed. She would not be satisfied until she’d tumbled his every wall, his every defense, and he’d be a dead man.
Then again, maybe he’d be a happy dead man …
Welcome, master!
Spurred back from his thoughts by Luke’s virtual butler, Graves began typing again as Luke strolled into his pad. The scanning device he’d programmed and wired was activated as his friend moved inside.
“That’s creepy. I can totally hear it scanning me,” Luke said with a smirk, as he sent his coat flying across the room. He threw himself onto the couch next to where it had landed and propped his feet up. “I’m your master and lord, idiot, and I am unarmed!”
Graves kept typing. “Almost through here. I’m merely saving your profile as an authorized weapons holder…”