Page 8 of Mr. Wicked

“But you’re willing to stop and get me something to eat.” As those words left her mouth, I refused to comment. “Interesting.” She adjusted her stance, putting all her weight on her shoulder, and when she crossed her arms this time, she covered her chest. “And what are we going to do at your place?” Her mouth stayed unmoved, but her eyes were smiling.

Since my hands were no longer in my pockets, I reached forward, clasping the stray hairs that were teasing the corner of her lip, and slid them out of the way. When I did, I grazed her cheek.

That touch, that brief passing of skin, shocked me for two reasons.

The first was that she leaned into my hand, like she wanted it to stay.

And the second was how her skin felt. Not that I expected it to snap me. But I didn’t expect it to welcome me with softness and warmth to the point where I wanted to touch more.

I fucking needed to touch more.

And I saw no reason to hide that from her.

“The moment you walk through my door, I’m going to lift you into my arms and sit you on the island in my kitchen, where I’m going to strip off this tank top.” My hand lowered to her shoulder, bunching the cotton strap between my fingers. “Once that hits the floor, I’m going to remove your bra, and then your shorts, pulling them down your beautiful legs.” I leaned back, so I could get a better view. “That’ll leave you in just panties ... unless you don’t have any on?”

“I do.”

Two words that weren’t aimed to push me away.

They did the opposite.

They goaded me.

“While you’re sitting, I won’t be able to see your ass, and that’s something I’ve been admiring all night and dying to touch. So, after I spread your legs over the counter and lick you, I’m going to lift you into my arms again, and while I carry you to my bedroom, I’m going to feel your ass the whole time.”

Her body was lit.

I could see it.

Hell, I could smell it.

“Why?” She licked her bottom lip, paused, and swiped her tongue across it a second time, following the same route. “Why do you want me?”

“From the moment I saw you across the bar, before you even came to our table, I couldn’t stop thinking about how you would taste. And then the moment your lips parted, all I could think about was sliding my tongue between them.”

“No date. No small talk. No wine, even.” Her arms dropped. “Just my body.”

“I’ll give you wine, if that’s what you want.”

“Is that another compromise?” She smiled.

I needed to get her back on track. “For the record, I don’t beat around the bush, Jovana. I stomp right through it.”

“It’s a good thing I like that about you.”

But she still wasn’t convinced; I could see that in her expression.

My hand lifted to her cheek, and I took a step closer, our bodies aligned with just an inch of air between us. I pointed her face up at me, her scent even stronger now. “I want to kiss you.”

“Are you asking for permission?”

“I’m warning you.”

“Over a kiss?” She gazed at my mouth before locking our stares.

I rubbed my thumb over the corner of her lip. “If I just wanted to kiss you here, I wouldn’t give you the warning. I’d lean forward and ravish you.” My mouth now hovered above hers. “But these aren’t the only lips I want to kiss, Jovana.”

“Mister, you are wicked.”

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