Over the past week since Amber’s little visit it has been more work and less play as we’ve been having quite a few late nights working on some tax reports. Thankfully, everything seems normal, and Saxon hasn’t said any more confusing comments or brought up the ones he did say. After hours, and I mean hours, of analysing his words, I’m still no closer to guessing their meaning.
Saxon remains silent behind me, and I wonder if these numbers have stumped him as much as they have me. My eyes are beginning to cross as I stare at the same figures we’ve been looking over for the past two hours.
Saxon takes a deep breath and suddenly his rough hand is on my shoulder, holding it lightly. My body instantly stills in response to his touch.
Over all the months we have been working together, he has never touched me, besides his attempt after Amber’s visit. No innocent touch of the hands, no brushing against me as we passed in the hallway, no bumping knees under the table. Nothing. Almost as if he makes sure to avoid it.
His hand runs slowly down my arm and sends tingles and goose bumps all over my body. I look up to him, my eyes meeting his. They sparkle with something like want… like need.
He stares into my gaze, and I don’t know what he’s looking for. My chest tightens as I hold my breath in anticipation of his next move.
Saxon leans down towards me and softly places his lips on mine. He doesn’t close his eyes for a second, like he doesn’t want to miss any part of my reaction. I freeze. My mind shuts off to the world around me, and I can only focus on the fast thudding of my heart and the blood rushing in my ears. He’s kissing me? Pleasure starts to creep into my senses. The affection his kiss holds is overwhelming.
His lips are soft and warm, he’s gentle and I can almost feel the question his mouth holds. I pull away, releasing the massive breath I’ve been holding, and Saxon must take this as some kind of answer as he takes a sharp intake of breath and closes his eyes.
He moves his hands to my face as his lips crash against my own. His kiss is no longer gentle; it no longer holds reserve and uncertainty. Although his lips are still soft and warm, the kiss is hard and punishing, controlling and confident, and my lips go along for the ride.
A groan escapes from the back of his throat before he glides his tongue along the seam of my lips, and my body answers his question for me, my mouth opening up and allowing him access. I feel like a teenager again having my first kiss.
Saxon pulls away from my mouth, places his hands under my arms and pulls me into a standing position in front of him. He looks painfully into my eyes, wanting to know what to do next.
Do I want this? Is it wrong? What will happen after? What does it mean? Shit. I can’t stand here for twenty minutes mulling things over while Saxon is watching me, waiting for my reaction.
I shake my head, trying to free my thoughts. He takes my head-shaking as a no and steps back with regret plastered on his face.
Without thought, my hands reach out to grab his waist. His eyes widen at the tight grip I have on him, his pale blue cotton shirt scrunched up in my hands, causing my knuckles to turn white.
Saxon stands completely still, waiting for my next move. I know he’s leaving this up to me, but I don’t want to be the one to make this decision. I don’t know if I should turn and run or throw him down and hold onto him like he’s my last breath.
Looking down to his chest, I marvel at the muscles I can see tensing beneath his dress shirt. I slowly release my strong hold on his waist and gradually graze my fingers towards the middle of his stomach. They rub and caress the tight muscles clenched beneath, and I hear him release a gasp. It excites me that it’s my touch doing that to him. That I could affect someone as enthralling as Saxon.
My hands continue gliding to his abs, up his chest and across the top of his pecs, where I give a light squeeze, enjoying the firmness, before continuing along his collarbones until they slide over the tops of his shoulders and reach around his neck.
I lift my eyes to Saxon’s from underneath my eyelashes as I entwine my fingers through his hair. I’ve just told him I want him too. The lust in his eyes almost hides the shock. Maybe he was hoping I was going to be the one to make the right decision. To turn and run. Maybe I should have. But I don’t want to.
Before I have the chance to think it over, Saxon grabs my waist hard and pulls me tight against him, his arousal digging into my hip. He takes my mouth in the same fierce way he did before, except this time I open my mouth instantly, and he doesn’t miss a beat before searching for my tongue with his own.
My chest is pushed up against his hard torso, and his leg resting between mine places pressure on my core. I tighten my grip on the back of his head and push off my toes as if my body is trying to climb his. Climb inside him. Even if I could, I don’t think it would be enough, enough to fill the need which has overcome me.