Page 27 of Knocked up By the Minotaur

“Well,” I murmur, staring at her angry side profile and the long, slender neck hidden beneath the waves of her hair. “This is a welcome turn of events.”

“She’s so rude.” Grace finally turns her heated blue eyes my way. “I’m sick of women taking my men!”

I tighten my fingers against her warm leg. “Am I your male, then?” I tease, but for some reason, find myself holding my breath for her answer.

“According to her, you are,” she huffs, before snatching up my glass from the table. “And she needs to learn a lesson.”

Then she takes a gulp of my whiskey, slams it back down, and turns and presses her lips against mine. I sigh against her, wanting nothing more than to melt into her kiss—and more importantly, feel her melt into me—but she’s once more revenge-kissing me, and I’m not about to let things go too far if that isn’t what she actually wants. So with deep, deep regrets, I thread my fingers through her hair and pull her back.

“Grace, my dear… are you here with me?”

“What?” She squints, her face pulling back in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean are you here.” I run my hand up her thigh, tracing over the lovely curve of her hips before squeezing her waist. “In this moment, with me. Or…” The hand in her hair slips out, and I tap gently at her forehead. “Are you locked away in there?”

She huffs. “Olistaire, if you don’t let me kiss you right now, I’m going to get angry.”

I grin, shaking my head. This female. “Then it’s a good thing you’re beautiful when you’re mad.”

“Oli,” she whines, wriggling in annoyance, and I bite my lip and try to control my body’s reaction to her. Because she is sitting precariously close to a certain interested part of me who doesn’t particularly care about morals or doing what’s right. “Isn’t this what all your overzealous flirting was for?”

“Overzealous, huh?” I shake my head again. “You have such an easy way of making me sound rather pathetic.”

She smiles suddenly and leans forward, resting both her forearms on my shoulders. “Not pathetic.” When her hands instinctively loop to connect behind my head, I almost close my eyes, because this is exactly how I want her to hold on to me when I slide deep inside her wet little slit. “If nothing else, you’re a lot of fun, Oli, I’ll give you that much. Like you said, you never make me feel anything but good.”

“Just give me half a chance,” I murmur, entranced by the sight of her lips so close to mine. Gods, how I want to make her feel so much more than just good.

“Then kiss me, you idiot.”

My hand snaps back to her neck, gripping her spine gently as I shift forward. “Listen carefully, little human, because you need to understand. If I kiss you, I’m going to do it properly.” She blinks in surprise, and my hand at her waist tugs her closer. “And when I kiss you properly, I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure you don’t ever want me to stop. If you’d let me, I’d make you come right here in public with nothing but my hand between your thighs, and my lips at your neck. I wouldn’t think twice, sweetness. So I’m going to ask you one more time.”

Her lips part, her gaze on mine heated and, finally, steady. No more darting to the side, thinking about everything else in the world but the male who is desperate for her. No, she’slooking at me.

“Are you here?” I whisper, and I can’t stop myself from shifting still closer. “With me?”

“Yes,” she breathes, the sound barely more than a flutter of desire. “I’m here with you.”

My fingers tighten at her neck as my blood rushes through me, and I let out a slow breath. “Then I’ll kiss you.”

Her eyes flutter shut, and I almost groan aloud with relief and need as I put my lips to hers, and slip my tongue into the wet heat of her mouth.

Yes.

Chapter 11

Grace

When Oli kisses me, there’s something slow and infinitely sensual to his movements. Time stops, and all my awareness narrows down to the way his tongue makes a long, languid stroke against mine. He tastes like whiskey, and my head is fuzzy, my thoughts swimming as my body melts into his hold, but I don’t think it’s from the drinks. Oli’s kissing me, and just like that moment at mine when he sucked at my bottom lip, my body, heart, and mind are paying sudden, intimate attention to every detail.

I’d make you come right here in public.

I shiver in his hold as that line, delivered in his smooth, deep voice like a promise, echoes through me. Jesus fucking Christ. I’ve never had a single exhibitionist thought in my life, but for some reason when Oli said that, a rush of heat pooled low in my body and suddenly the last shred of my cares flew out the window. I need him tonight. I don’t care about Brad, or anything else anymore. Maybe he’s right, and I just need to try something different.

Fuck it. Sounds good to me.

I lean into him, reveling in the feel of his big, hard body beneath me, in his soft lips against mine, the expert way his tongue moves, taking charge of our kiss without forcing. His fingers at my neck squeeze, and when he pulls me closer, I lean eagerly into his chest until he falls back against the backrest.

Our kiss breaks, and we both remain an inch apart, panting lightly.

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