Page 56 of Love Me Tomorrow

If she wants to play with fire, then she’s going to have be willing to let the flames swallow her whole. And, in this case, I’m holding both the torch and the hose. Sinner and savior, all in one.

Capturing her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I pull back. Her lips are glossy. Eyes wide and unfocused as she blinks up at me. “Did I do something wrong?” she asks.

I drag my gaze down over the pearl necklace clasped around her throat to the all-too-professional button-down draped over her torso. Lifting a hand, I fondle the top closure of her shirt. Sweep my thumb back and forth across the plastic button. “I’ve thought about you, y’know.”

Confusion flickers in her gaze. “I figured so . . . from the sketches.”

My mouth curls in a sardonic smile. I never intended to let her see those images, but I’ll be damned if I regret them now. They brought her to me. Have her sitting on my goddamn receptionist’s deskfor me.

It’s a heady thought that goes straight to my cock.

“I meant that I’ve thought about you in bed, Rose.” I slip the top button through its hole, letting her shirt fall open to reveal a lacy bra and the soft upper swells of her breasts. She’s gorgeous. All pretty, smooth skin. A single, imperfect mole just above the delicate lace that begs to be kissed. Under the weight of my gaze, her chest rises with a sharp, needy sigh and my control nearly splinters.Fuck me.I’m dying to finally touch her, and it takes superhuman strength to go on. “With the lights turned off and the sheets tangled around my legs, I’ve pictured your face.”

The feminine hand on my shoulder squeezes, tight. “Owen.”

On her lips, my name is a plea more than a whisper, and I take advantage of her shock by undoing the next button. Her shirt gapes open now. Lacy cups. Satin band. Sexy all the way around—she’ll be even sexier when I strip it off her.

“Pictured your hand, too,” I say, flicking open the third button while I press a kiss to her neck, right over her pulse. “How you had it wrapped around my cock, your fist so full that when you slicked your grip down, you begged me to come in your mouth.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Yeah, you said that too.” I kiss my way up to the shell of her ear. Trace over to the line of her jaw. Linger there, letting her labored breathing wash over me like the sweetest, most illicit melody. For a guy like me, who’s spent a lifetime hiding in plain sight, her openness, the full-on ownership of her desire, is as much a turn-on as the thought of kissing her again. “So, I gave you what you wanted,” I growl, grazing my thumb over her Cupid’s bow, parting her lips, “I turned you over onto your back, palmed your jaw open wide, and slid my dick inside.”

When I meet her gaze, her eyes are luminous with lust. “W-why are you telling me this?”

“Because when you kiss me next, you better do it the wayyou’vefantasized—not the way you think I’ll like it. Screw expectations.” I brush my lips over hers, a sensual collision that has her mewling raggedly in the back of her throat when I retreat yet again. “I’m not gonna break, and I’m sure as hell not going to judge you for claiming what you want. Be unapologetic, Rose. Be fucking fearless.”

Softly, with agony puncturing every syllable, she breathes, “What if I want too much?”

With need coating my veins like the most intoxicating drug, I tug her closer. “So take it all.”

She scoffs. “You make it sound so easy. It’snotthat easy.”

Without giving her a chance to protest, I slip my hands under her thighs and haul her up into my arms. Instinctively, her legs wrap around my waist, even as she exclaims, “Owen, what are you doing? Put me down!”

“Can’t do that, sweetheart. I’d apologize but”—I offer her a cocky grin—“my momma always told me it’s bad form to say sorry when you don’t mean it.” With her in my arms, like a scene ripped from one of the pages of my hottest fantasies, I stride for the front door, flicking the lock closed. Then head for the hallway. “Turns out I wanted to carry you, so I made it happen.” I bump her up in my arms. “What’re you gonna do about it, Sav? You going to let me pick you up like a rag doll? You going to tell me to screw off—”

Her lips slam against mine, instantly shutting me up.

Fuck.Yes.

I taste her frustration and I taste her need, and I immediately turn on my heel and press her back to the wall. This.Thisis what I needed from her, what I knew she had to give me, once she ditched her prim and proper sensibilities. Her fingers claw wildly at my T-shirt. Scrape down over my chest. Circle my biceps as she strains for more.

I’m not about to deny her anything.

Unlike the first kiss, this one is dirty and messy and so damn raw that I groan into her mouth and silently beg for mercy. Savannah Rose playing the American sweetheart card is enticing, but the woman in my arms right now—the way she’s arching her back and moaning deep in her throat—is all kinds of dangerous to my peace of mind.

I change the angle, pressing deeper. Slick my tongue along the seam of her lips until she opens up and lets me inside.

She tastes like promise. Like desire. Like sin.

No, she tastes like she’smine.

Warning bells sound off in my head, clanging loudly, but I shut the door on thoughts of the future and focus on the now.

After almost two years, I have Savannah Rose in my arms. Finally, we’re on the same page.

Half expecting baby cherubs to burst into the hallway, shooting confetti into the air in congratulations, I flex my hands under her ass, clutching her tighter, thrusting my hips upward. The web of her slim-fitting skirt stops me from making direct contact, and I tear my mouth away from hers to growl, “Drag your skirt up around your hips.”

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