Page 91 of The Perfect Mistake

“Sure,” she says, a smile dancing in her eyes. “You’re the picture of happiness and ease at all times.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Come here.” I grip her waist and tug her on top of me, so she straddles me.

She wraps her hands around my neck. “Is this my punishment?”

“Yes. Forced to entertain me,” I say. “You want me to be the picture of ease?”

Her eyebrows rise. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

“Sure is.” I settle my hands on the indent above her hips. Her waist is firm beneath my hands, as toned as the rest of her. “You’re happy today.”

A smile plays over her lips. “I got a really interesting phone call this afternoon.”

“Oh?”

“The ballet choreographer wants to meet with me for a drink next Tuesday.”

My hands tighten. “They do?”

“Yes. He is a master, brilliant at what he does. It’s his production we’d been dancing… I’d been dancing in before I had to leave.” She smiles with excitement. “I’ve never had a one-on-one with him like this before.”

“I see.”

“I don’t know what he wants,” she says. “He knows about my injury, of course, and he was probably the one who recommended I be cut in the first place. But he might have a new production coming up. You know, when I’m healed.”

I slide my thumb under the hem of her sweater, stroking over the warm skin of her stomach. “Mac will drive you both ways.”

She grins. “You know, I always knew you were bossy.”

“I am. And I’m glad you’re excited.” My free hand tugs at her braid, pulling off the hairband. I undo the thick tendrils and let her locks fall around her shoulders, thick, glossy, black strands.

She twists her fingers beneath the collar of my shirt, resting against my skin. “Are you my hairstylist now?”

“Mm-hmm.” I spread the hair out over her sweater, brushing it down over her tits. It’s beautiful. She’s always been too beautiful, and too distracting, from the first time Connie introduced us years ago.

I pull her forward, drawing her head to mine. We touch at every point. “I shouldn’t text you during the day,” I say. “Distract you during your free time.”

She smiles. “My boss is very demanding.”

“Yes, he is.” I run my fingers down her back until I find the hem of her sweater. My hand slides up beneath it. “He’s been thinking about you all day, thanks to those little texts.”

“Has he?” She rolls her hips, a smooth movement that grinds against my groin. A flush spreads up her cheeks, darkening them. “You made me think about you, too, with that description.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. And I’m thinking I might pay you back for that tomorrow.”

I feather my lips over hers, intending to tease, but she tastes too good. I deepen the kiss and tug her down more firmly against my lap.

“How?” I ask.

She threads her hand into my hair. “I think that’ll be a surprise.”

“You’ll get me hard at work if you stick to that.”

She leans back, her eyes sparkling. “Think I could do that?”

“Easily.” I run my hand around her hips, letting my thumbs glide down to the fabric-covered V between her legs. It’s been twenty-four hours since I touched her like this last, and it feels like twenty-four hours too many. “I’m hard all the time these days.”

---