Page 58 of Bound

My eyes flick up to hers, and fuck it, I just give her the truth. “Because I’ve been obsessed with your pussy from day one.”

Silence.

Her mouth dropping open. “Seriously?” she whispers.

I shrug. “You want me to lie to you?”

“N-no,” she sputters, cheeks blazing. “I just?—”

I lean in, whispering in her ear, inhaling the soft floral scent of her. “You’re not the only one with fantasies, remember?”

Her throat works. “I remember.” A breath, her hand settling on my chest, dragging lower. “Come in.”

I nearly groan, but bite it back, force my hands to release her. “Not tonight, sweetheart. We’ve already moved at warp speed.”

Enemies to first date in the span of a day.

I need that patience, need to make sure she moves at a pace she’s comfortable with.

“Just for a little while,” she murmurs, slipping that palm down a little lower, until her fingers are positioned just above the waistband of my slacks.

My dick is hard—just like that.

“Please?”

And, fuck, but I can’t say no, can’t find the strength within myself to give her anything buteverythingshe wants.

I capture her hand, bring it up to my lips, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm, and the disappointment that enters her gaze—like she knows I’m going to say no, like she expects it—takes any angst out of the decision.

It took courage for her to make the request.

Fuck if I’m going to shit on that.

I nudge her backward, beyond the door, catching the heavy panel before it can slam and disturb our neighbors. I don’t want any interruptions. I don’t want any nosy teammates—cough Smitty—who I know is likely nearby, ready to snoop and gather gossip to barge in and?—

“You can go to your own room,” she whispers, and I realize I’ve been staring at the closed door for far too long. “I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

I throw the deadbolt, whip around.

“I’m trying not to toss you on the bed and fuck you senseless.”

Her lips part. Her cheeks flush. Her eyes darken. “Oh, I?—”

“But you’ve just had your first date, after only just having your first kiss, after dealing with a bunch of assholes. You’re not ready?—”

“Yes, I am,” she says quickly, her tongue dipping out to taste her bottom lip. “I’m ready. I want—” Her teeth press into her bottom lip for a brief second. “I need—” She reaches for the buttons of her coat, undoing it and dropping it onto the chair in the corner of the room. The movement means that her jeans—already sinfully tight—lovingly cup that gorgeous ass of hers, that her silky shirt stretches tightly over her breasts.

I want to see—no, I’m fucking desperate to see what she’s wearing beneath her clothes.

Christ.

It’s a fucking miracle that there’s any blood left in my brain.

It’s sure as shit is pooling in my groin, making all my thoughts ofpatienceandslowvery hard to grasp on to.

“You need what?” I rasp when she turns her back on me, resting her hands on the dresser, dropping her chin to her chest.

“I don’t know,” she admits a long moment later.

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