Page 55 of Good Enough

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Why?”

“Maybe I thought it would get me one step closer to seeing your sexy pink underwear,” he teased.

Hands extended out to give him a shove in the chest in fake exasperation, but instead, they ended up in his grasp, and with a sudden pull, she was straddling his lap, hands held tight to his chest, looking down into his eyes. There was no way she could miss how hard he was. He searched her face, watching carefully for signs that she wanted him to stop.

“So…” he asked quietly, “if I kissed you, I wouldn’t be interfering in a plan to get together with Lazarus?”

Her pupils dilated, and then she slowly shook her head.

“Or any of the other guys, either?”

She shook her head again.

Letting go of her wrists, he scrunched his hands into fists and covered his eyes. “This is a bad idea, Kubrick, but I just can’t seem to stop.”

“Good ideas are often overrated,” she whispered, her hands sliding to clutch his shoulders.

Unclenching his fists, he reached up and gently stroked the back of his fingers along her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you. This thing between us can never be more than the moment, Kubrick. It’s a rule,” he confessed. “No relationships, clients or otherwise. I’m a ghost. I’m technically dead.”

He let her absorb that for a few moments.

“Even if I were allowed to, I wouldn’t be able to promise anyone the possibility of being permanent. Every time I get sent somewhere, it’s fifty-fifty I’m coming back, probably less, and I can only ride that lightning for so long. Attachment is too dangerous. For me. For a woman or a family. Piss off the wrong person, and suddenly, someone I care about could be used against me. I can’t risk it. And despite the danger and the solitary life, I love what I do. I can’t change who I am, and I don’t want to. Tribe always wins.”

He raised his hands back in a position of surrender and looked up at her. “So tell me no. Take the decision out of my hands. Get up and walk away. Pretend this afternoon never happened,” he begged.

Her eyes were glassy, but no tears fell. Instead, she reached for the hem of her hoodie and pulled it over her head, dropping it to the floor next to them. “I can’t pretend this isn’t here.” With that, she cupped his face in her hands and brought her lips to his.

He didn’t know who opened to whom, but their tongues were tangling, stroking, and she tasted so good. Like chocolate and peppermint. Mouth breaking away with a heaving breath, he held her a scant inch away, his eyes searching hers. “Are you sure? Knowing this is all it can be? While the film is going, and then it’s done?”

She nodded twice.

Internally, he groaned. At least, he thought he did. Maybe it was out loud. He didn’t care. He gave up.

Growling at her, he sat up and ordered, “Wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist, baby.”

His hands gripped the backs of her thighs to help her as she complied immediately, almost frantically, clutching him so hard he wondered if he’d have bruises on his hips later.

She was already mewling in frustration. “Look at me,” he commanded.

Rotating his hard cock against the cradle between her legs, he watched as her brown eyes dilated. “That’s it, baby. Hang on, and don’t you take your eyes off me. I want to watch you as I grind into that sweet pussy and make you come before I even touch you.”

She gasped at the sudden and unexpected dirty words from him.

“Don’t look away.”

He felt her lock up.

He pressed up hard into her again, twisting against her at the last moment. Once. Twice.

He watched her suck in air, preparing for the explosion, her eyes glued to his.

She began to tighten and shake, coming undone for him. “Fuck, yeah, baby, let it go. Give it all to me, Kubrick.”

Collapsing onto his chest and into his arms, head on his shoulder, panting and boneless, she wailed, “Oh my God, Waters!”

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered.

As she recovered, he allowed his hands to smooth the skin of her back. He pressed soft, openmouthed kisses to her exposed neck.

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