Page 17 of The Maid

Billy smirked, "Have a nice evening, sir."

"I'll try Billy!" he said as he stepped inside and swiped his key card, which gave him direct access straight to his apartment. "If I put you down are you going to run?"

"Yes, you jerk." She huffed. Regardless, he carefully slid her down his body until she was steady on her feet. Her eyes narrowed and her skin was blotchy. She ran her hands down her dress and hair, but it was no use, her drenched clothes seemed stuck to her body and her hair was plastered against her face.

She took a step forward, her finger pointed at him in that way he hated. "I cannot believe you did that!"

"Well, believe it baby." He smirked and as soon as he did it, he realized it was a bad call because the woman still remembered the one thing he hated most. The thing that irked him to no end. She reached behind him pulled the short hair behind his head— hard. It was childish, but he'd been childish by carrying her. "Ow!" he yelled. "Don't do that."

She pulled again.

"What are you, twelve?" He swatted her hand away. "Stop pulling my hair."

"Don't ever pick me up and carry me like that again!" She reached up and tried to pull another one, but he took her wrists in his hands.

"Then be less difficult and more complacent."

She winced at the word, pulled her hand away from his grip and then did the last thing he'd ever expect her to do. She looked straight at him, reached forward, and twisted one of his nipples hard.

"Motherfucker!" he said, his hand over his throbbing nipple. "That's it!" He picked her up again as the elevator door opened.

"Let me down."

"No! Now I'm fuckin' pissed, Adalyn. I just wanted you out of the rain, you didn't have to be so difficult about it."

"No, you mean, I should've been complacent." She threw his words back at her. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're not the guy I used to know."

One-handed, he opened the door, kicked it closed behind him, and stomped to his bedroom and threw her roughly on the bed. "Damn straight I'm not. I'm no fucking kid anymore, baby, I'm a fucking man." He leaned down, his hands caging her face, and his knee on the bed between her legs. His breathing was labored and so was hers. She was so mad, the red had spread down to her collarbone and to the space between her breasts. Her eyes were locked with his, and even her nostrils were flared, the heat from her anger rolling off of her in waves. He was about to pull away when she threw her hands around his neck and pulled him down against her and pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. He felt the sting all the way to his cock.

For a second he froze trying to come to terms with the fact that Adalyn’s teeth and tongue were on his lips. Adalyn who he’d missed all these years. She was kissing him.

It felt so good being under him, feeling his weight on her. She had been conflicted—wrap my legs around him and kiss him or slap him for having been such a jackass.

Her libido won.

He tasted delicious—brandy and the familiar taste that was all Gunther. He relaxed on her, and coaxed her mouth open with his tongue, making her forget anything else but the feel of him. He still kissed the same, even back then they'd spent hours just kissing. Except, all the adrenaline from being angry at each other still coursed through their veins. That and the fact that she hadn't had sex in months was making her desperate. She wanted him and she wanted him now. Her fingers dug roughly into his hair and he groaned into her mouth, her skirt had slid up high, leaving her exposed as his knee rubbed against her—almost exactly the way she needed but not quite. She reached for his shirt and helped peel it off him, in a frenzy. Then she reached for his belt and began to unbuckle it. Instead he pulled her up and out of bed. He reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it off, swiftly, while she kicked her shoes off.

"Jesus Christ, had I known that tiny scrap of lace was hidden underneath that dress the entire night, I'd had dragged you to the bathroom and fucked you in the first empty stall."

"Pig."

"Oink, oink, baby."

She needed to alleviate the throbbing between her legs. She reached for his pants again, but he wouldn't be deterred. He looked at her, intensely. "You're still beautiful, Addie. More beautiful than I even remembered."

She didn't respond. Instead, her hands moved to his belt again and his hands went to her waist. He looked at her, really looked at her. "All these years, I've thought of you so much."

She pulled the belt out of the loops with a quick snap. "Less talking more fucking."

Her words surprised him. His Addie didn't talk that way. His Addie liked to make slow and sweet love. His Addie didn't fuck. This Addie, however, was on a mission, and once the belt was off and the zipper of his jeans undone, she pulled his pants down, together with his boxers and then attacked his mouth again.

"Addie," he whispered.

"Shh." She brought her lips back on him and he kissed her like he had been starved for all these years and this was his first meal.

"What's the rush, woman?" He groaned into her neck, when she wrapped her leg around him trying to get off as quickly as possible.

She ran her fingers through his hair, then kissed his neck and shoulder. "That connection? It's still there." She said between hungry feverish kisses. "And I want you. You piss me off, you tell me what to do but I can't help want you."

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