Page 84 of Underground Prince

I yanked at his tie and pulled him down into a lip-grinding, teeth-banging kiss, our tongues warring, sliding, seducing. A groan—my groan—as his arms wove around me, his fingers digging into my hair, undoing the knot, wet tendrils framing our mouths. His other hand moved to my hip, up my sweater and finding my bra, the thin lace giving in to the play of his fingers, swirling my nipple, pinching, and I gasped, stealing his breath.

I wanted nothing more than for us to strip, to be skin against hot skin, to have his fingers in me, him in me, to touch all parts of him and have him turn my ache into ecstasy as I rode him. Do it, Theo. Screw me.

Know him.

The voice in my head broke through, a last-minute plea for discernment. To be sensible.

I broke away with a sharp inhale, my lips pulsing with the swell of our crushing connection. “So…” I breathed for a few seconds. “That settles that.”

He rubbed at his stubble, his tongue gliding across his lips like he was still trying to taste me.

“What are you doing tonight?” I asked, pulling my hair back up, giving myself something to do other than slam him to the ground and finish what we started.

He cocked a brow, a hand still on his jaw. “Working.”

“Skip it,” I said.

He frowned. “Do you want to tell me what that was? What this is?”

“No,” I said. “I want you to take me out. Like you promised.”

He paused, his mouth doing that mild lift-up thing that was so sexy and infuriating at the same time. “I didn’t promise anything.”

“But you came here. To me.” I returned to him, my body switching to seduction, begging for him, but my mind was winning out over matter—for now. “Are you frightened? Of me?”

He regarded me for a moment, recognizing my statement for the spar it was. “Bold, Scarlet,” he said, his voice a mixture of regret and softness. “Very bold.”

For the first time today, I smiled, a beam of genuine amusement followed by a swirl of contentment in my belly. I liked being around him, besting and squabbling and enjoying our banter. Yes, he had a loaded past and a questionable present. He could bring ruin, but right now I was only feeling change.

“Come on,” I said, giving in to this small spurt of fulfillment, recognizing its fleeting presence.

I could still feel his hands running down the length of my body, coaxing my blood to the surface, steaming my skin.

“And where am I following you to?”

I glanced over my shoulder. Grinned. “If you’re not taking charge, then I will.”

“It’s not that I can’t assume control, Scarlet,” he said behind me as we went down the stairs. The exposed skin on the back of my neck quivered as his fingers danced across, the tiny escaped hairs there contributing to the rush, and I stopped. Turned.

There he was, a thousand thoughts spinning behind his eyes. But they were contained in a prison of restraint. “I’m holding back for a reason,” he said.

“And yet.” I moved up a step, so our noses almost touched. “You can’t prevent yourself from being near me. I know I’m right, because I feel the same way.”

There. It was like he lifted the shutters for the briefest of moments, allowing me a glimpse of the raw hunger, the need to take me by the mouth again and bite down, but he clamped the emotion down as quick as it came with nothing but a tic.

“If you want to play hooky this afternoon, you probably shouldn’t do it with your boss,” he said.

I dismissed his lame attempt at chastising by hopping down to the bottom floor. “It’s worth it. Now stop skulking in the stairway and take me to Brooklyn.”

* * *

I took him for burgers.

But these were not just any beef patties. They were the juiciest, drippiest, cheesiest morsels on the market, and I couldn’t think of a better way to get to know Theo Saxon than over burgers and beer.

We arrived in downtown Brooklyn, out of luxurious leather and into red vinyl, handing the menus to our waitress as soon as she set down our drinks.

“Double patty, with extra cheese, pickles and secret sauce, thanks,” I said. “And a side of onion rings. Do you like those?”

---