Page 21 of Fighting Fate

“There has to be a sacrifice somewhere.” Before she can argue my point, I add, “It’s part of the reason I don’t do relationships.”

“But you want to get to know me.”

“Yes, I do. One day at a time…what do you think about that?”

Willows turns to face me, tucking a leg beneath her so that her dress exposes her slender thighs. “What if you don’t like me when you do?”

“What if you don’t like me?”

“The jury is definitely still out…fucking droopy flaps.” She growls the last part with disgust.

“Hey, you started it with my lazy right eye.”

Taking a sip of her wine, Willow hums in approval. “It’s actually the left.”

“I don’t have a—” My words come to an abrupt halt when her lips press to mine suddenly.

They’re so damn soft that I can’t resist the urge to lick them. There’s a low hum when I suck her bottom lip between mine, rolling it while I take the wine glass in her hand and put it down beside my water. Before I can grasp her face between my hands, she’s holding mine. When I wrap my arm around her waist, she straddles my lap, pressing her chest to mine while I push my tongue into her mouth, and she moans.

The tart taste of the wine lingers on her taste buds as I twirl my tongue with hers. It’s impossible to ignore the way her nipples pebble with the friction of our chests. All I can do is pull her tighter to me while her fingers tunnel into my hair with purpose, tugging and twisting like my insides.

With her writhing over me, I can’t think straight. My dick is throbbing at the feel of her pussy rocking over me. She’s a vixen. A temptation I can’t resist. And the worst part is that she knows it.

Still, I was serious about what I told her before. As much as my cock is aching to, I won’t fuck her tonight.

“What’re you doing?” she slurs, lust drunk and needy. With a purposeful circle of her hips, she adds, “You want to fuck me.”

“More than you know.” So much so that I can barely breathe, leaning forwards and nipping at her lips as I set her back down on the couch. “Come back for a second date, and I’ll fuck you so damn good you won’t be able to walk back out of that door without me holding you up.”

“You better fucking deliver,” she mutters with a smile twisting her pout.

“If I were you, I’d start doing some of those pussy exercises.”

“Kegels actually make it tighter.”

“Whatever…” I say, standing when my phone vibrates to let me know the concierge is bringing my food order up from the restaurant downstairs. Turning in the open doorway, I wink at her. “Just get ready.”

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