Page 43 of Mr. Wicked

What he stirred.

The amount of power his eyes and hands had over me.

But still, I played coy and said, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He was off his chair, towering over me. “I barely touched you and your reaction was as strong as if I’d cupped your face and dragged your lips to mine.” His tongue gradually darted out, licking the top of his bottom lip. “Is it that you’re not touched too often or you’re just that turned on by me?”

I was positive my eyes bugged out when I snapped, “Dick.”

Despite what had just come out of my mouth, something very different was happening between my legs.

A wetness that was taking hold of me.

That was what his directness did.

“Answer me, Jovana.”

“I wouldn’t give you that satisfaction.”

He chuckled. “All right, we’ll see.” He took a step, which only brought us closer. “Follow me.”

I stayed next to him, passing the tables, and when I assumed he’d head for the front of the bar, he turned and we began to go toward the hallway where the restrooms were located. At first, I was worried this was going to be a replay of our first night, since I couldn’t understand why we were going in that direction, and then it became obvious.

Grayson wanted to leave through the back, the door that was nearest to his condo.

Once we reached the end point, he leaned into the glass while facing me. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He took several deep breaths. That was what I did when I was searching for words, but I didn’t get the sense he had a hard time coming up with replies.

As his mouth opened, it pulled into a smile. “For not flipping me off.”

“You haven’t left yet. I still have time.”

He laughed. “That’s fair.” He lifted his arm, holding the top of the doorway. “I have a question of my own.” Still gripping the molding, he leaned forward, closing the space between us.

My muscles tightened.

My lips parted, drawing in more air.

He wasn’t going to kiss me.

He wouldn’t dare.

Not after telling me that nothing would happen following our one night together.

Because a kiss would be more.

And Grayson Tanner didn’t do more.

But his lips were opening, his gaze locking with mine. “I want to know if I can feel it.” As he spoke, his words hit my mouth, his breath soft, smelling of vodka and cologne.

“Feel what?”

He didn’t answer. He just moved in a bit more, his mouth hovering above mine.

As the seconds passed, wetness pooled between my thighs.

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