Page 57 of Love Me Tomorrow

Hastily, she maneuvers the fabric up between us, leaving her in nothing but her unbuttoned shirt, that lacy bra, and a pair of boy shorts that shouldn’t be as sexy as they are.

She’s beautiful. Almost too beautiful for me to ruin.

Almost, but not quite.

My eyes slide shut, and my mouth finds hers on instinct alone.

We collide in an inelegant meetup of lips and teeth. For all my talk, I know that we should take it slow. Work our way up to whatever comes next. She must sense my momentary hesitation because she pulls back long enough to demand, “Don’t you dare stop now,” before diving back in.

She doesn’t need to tell me twice.

With my left hand, I circle her wrists and drag them up above her head. Pin them to the wall and crash my mouth down over hers again. My kiss is bruising, my touch demanding, but Savannah . . .Christ.Her hips roll seductively into mine, telling me exactly what she wants me to do, despite the fact that I’ve got her mouth otherwise preoccupied with my tongue.

I thrust upward, needing more, needingthis.

Almost eight months ago, she sent me home. Sent me spiraling, more than I’ll ever admit to another soul. And yet, having her in my arms now is unlike anything I ever believed possible. It feels like an elusive dream. Like at any point I’ll wake up and the morning sun will be a total bastard, shining bright in my face, and I’ll turn, hand outstretched to see if the bed is still warm from her body, only to find it cold and empty.

The thought adds an aggressive bite to my kiss, a possessive urgency to the way I hold her.

“Owen,” she gasps, breaking away to let her forehead fall to my shoulder. “It shouldn’t—it shouldn’t feel this good. It’sneverfelt this good . . . not for me.”

Another forward thrust, and I drag my jean-clad erection over the spot she needs me most, earning myself another one of those breathy moans of hers that has my vision blurring. One glance downward seals the deal: her breasts are threatening to spill from her bra; her unbuttoned shirt looks sultry and inviting, as opposed to the equivalent of a modern-day chastity belt; and her underwear and skirt are inching down with every drive of my hips like they’re willing to give up the good fight and bare all.

America’s sweetheart is no more.

I need inside her,now.

“It was always going to feel this good.” Slowly, I release my hold on her ass so she can slide down the length of my body, her wrists still pinned by my left hand. “With you and me, it was always going to feel like you’re coming out of your skin, chasing a high like you’ve never known. I knew it, even when I shouldn’t have. I wanted you. Craved you like nothing else in my life.”

Chin tipped up, her pouty lips seek mine. A swirl of her tongue before she whispers, “Careful, or I’ll get addicted.”

I give her thigh a squeeze. “Join the club. No goin’ back now.”

“You’re cocky.”

I hike her leg up around my waist. Lean in so she can feel the hardness behind my zipper against the softest part of her. Yeah, we’re totally doing this. Here against the wall. Later, on my desk. Wherever the hell she’ll have me. After waiting this long, I’m not about to be picky—just call me your average equal opportunist. By the time I’m through with her, no flat surface will remain untouched.

“Confident,” I correct, “I’m confident.”

Lids falling shut, she drops her head back against the wall like she’s content to let me have my way with her. “And here I thought you were shy.”

“Pretty sure I destroyed that theory ten times over just now—”

“One-star, you smug bastard!”

No.

No, fuck no.

I turn my head, just far enough to see that my worst fears are confirmed: Jordan is standing at the end of the hallway, idly sipping on a monster-sized Slurpee, shoulder propped up against the wall, and looking like every wish he’s ever asked for has been granted.

Savannah squeaks—honest-to-God squeaks—and tugs on her captive hands, which I release immediately. For a moment, it’s like she doesn’t know what to do first, so I take action, dragging her skirt down around her thighs because Jordan must be out of his ever-loving mind if he thinks he’s getting any more of a peep show than he already has. Savannah’s fingers clasp her shirt together.

Jordan makes a loud slurping sound as he sucks on the straw. “You think it’s cheating if I leave us an anonymous review? I can just see the headline now:Karma Strikes Tatted Asshole Boss.” Another slurp that has me envisioning taking that damn straw and winding it around his neck. “I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for so long,” he says, “I don’t want to waste the opportunity. Know what I mean?”

The only thing I know is that he’s a dead man walking.

I’m going to murder him.

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