Maybe I did.
Just had to prove it to her.
My hands fell to her waist. I held her close, but not nearly close enough. Her lips parted, and she teased me instead of offering a kiss. Her hair fell over her shoulders, the red streaks bright against the black of my jersey. I leaned in, kissing the dark hollow of her neck.
“Christ, Red,” I said. “If you only knew the dirty things I’d do to you.”
“I’m sure it involves a Kama Sutra manual, some lube, and a great deal of gentleness.”
Naughty girl. “Been there, done that. Guess what I really want.”
“Will I be surprised or horrified?”
“Pleased.”
“You realize in some states, there’s laws prohibiting the things we did in Vegas.”
“I’m not talking about fucking you.” My fingers teased to her thighs. “Though I plan to do that. A lot.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want to know what you’re like with your clothes on.”
“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Oh, I can be very…” I pressed a kiss against the satin skin of her neck. “Very.” I nipped. “Sweet.”
She shivered, and her soft little hum of delight was just the beginning of a sexy purr.
Her legs spread wide, letting me close. The loaner boxers played in my favor. A hint of perfect, caramel skin peeked from the fly. I teased my hands over her bare legs, savoring the heat of her body and the curve of her hip. She knew where I aimed, but she didn’t push me away. Not yet.
Hopefully not ever again.
My fingers dipped against her, sneaking through the unbuttoned seam.
God, she was slick. Hot. She shuddered, but the pleasure was as much mine as hers.
“You’re trying so hard…” Elle’s lips parted, and a shaky whimper puffed out. “These dates. Your pick-up lines. You actually want me to fall in love with you.”
“That’s the plan.”
“What’s in it for you?”
“I’ll have you.”
I teased her, finding that little button that revved her to the breaking point. She was so easy to get going. I was skilled, but I knew her. I felt her. Every breath, every tremor. It wasn’t just a memorization of her body. I understood what she liked. I could give her everything she wanted.
Elle wetted, bucked, and sighed a beautiful murmur of excitement as I flicked my finger quicker against her perfect clit.
“You’re not the marriage type, Charming.” Elle’s fingers dug into my arms. I’d have done anything to rip away the jersey. Those tits probably heaved with every little sigh and groan. “Do you really want to settle down with someone?”
“You and me? We’re not exactly conventional, Elle.” I stole her close for a kiss. “Maybe this is exactly what I want. No thinking. No talking. Just a beautiful woman, a wild night of passion, and you wanting me as much as I want you.”
“We’re talking marriage.”
“You want it too.”
“I don’t.”
“I think you do.” I teased her, my finger slipping inside her clenching pussy. “Because I think you remember more about Vegas than you’re letting on.”
She bit her lip as I pushed my finger through her tightness. She needed so much more than this. Something bigger. Harder. I’d fuck this woman wild and fast and take her with every ounce of strength I possessed.
Then I’d let her get on top to return the favor.
“Do you know why we really got married?” I asked.
“Alcohol?”
“It wasn’t because we were drunk or bored.” I sucked against her ear. “It was fate.”
Her head fell back. She fought the pleasure.
“I don’t believe in fate or fairy tales, Lachlan.”
“That’s a shame, Red. I could give you the Once Upon A Time of your dreams.”
“Yeah, but are you the type to stick around for the Happily Ever After?”
I curled my finger, pressing that secret spot deep inside her. Every part of her was soft. She clenched against me, tensing hard. Tight. Gripping me with such fucking intensity I swore I could feel it in my cock—
“Can I have a drink of water?”
Sebastian.
Elle gasped, pushing me away. I spun around, hiding the offending hand behind my back. Fortunately, Sebastian had a bad habit of shouting his demands from the hall. Elle had a second to hop from the counter, but she nearly crashed to the floor.
She trembled on wobbly legs and leaned against the sink as Sebastian wandered bleary-eyed into the kitchen.
He was lucky he was cute.
My greeting was a little too forced. “He-e-e-y, little man.”
The island counter helped to hide my erection, but not by much. I needed Elle to get the glass of water.