Page 49 of Obey

“Well, that, and you know, it’s rude.”

Rude. Okay. It’s not the proclamation of undying love I was going for. It’s not even a flutter. It’s hey, I’d do the same for any of those women sitting across the room. The pulse ringing in my ears gets louder and louder as the server takes my order and brings me a drink.

I need to deflect. To move the awkwardness from the fact I want him to like me to something else. “So, uh. You go to church?”

Wow. If I thought things couldn’t get more uncomfortable at our table, that definitely did it. Probably doesn’t help that he’s trying to read.

“I do.”

“Cool. Uh. Me too.”

“I figured.”

He figured. Cool. Great. Wonderful.

I turn my attention out the window. There’s a truck plowing snow out of the way on the main road, and spraying salt from the back.

“Is there anything else on your list you’d like to do before we part ways?” He doesn’t lift his line of sight from the page he’s reading, but his glasses shift on his nose. I definitely like when he’s all bookwormy and studious with those specs.

Part of me wants to say no. Again. I mean, he’s licked me, I’ve licked him, and we both orgasmed. What else is there to do other than The Deed?—which I’m absolutely not doing with a man who’s about to walk out of this hotel without a second thought about me for the rest of his days.

But I’m curious. If I say no all-the-way, what’s he going to suggest.

“If I said yes, what would you suggest?”

He drags his tongue over his bottom lip sending a shiver up my spine and a bolt of lust straight to my core. I can’t help squeezing my thighs together in case my coochie sends out some kind of signal to him to tell him I’m thinking about having his tongue between my legs.

“I don’t think you could handle what I’d do to you, Half-Pint.” That wolfish grin is back on his face like he’s playing with his prey, but the Southern Woman rises up inside me, my toes curling with the indignation of the challenge that he believes I can’t do something.

“Prove it. I can take anything you throw at me.” Regret curdles the coffee in my stomach as soon as the words are out. And the glint in his eye tells me he already expected me to rise to his bait.

He jerks his chin at my plate. “Finish up, and I will.”

My whole body shakes with nervous energy and anticipation as we head up to our room in the elevator. We’re surrounded by people, but that doesn’t stop him from running his fingers across my lower back, inching higher and higher up the curve of my spine.

When he gets to my bra strap, I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but when he essentially clicks his fingers and the dang thing bursts open in the back, I can’t help but gasp.

When three people turn to look at me, I duck my head.

When his hand skates down my back, dipping into the waistband of my pants, I grit my teeth.

Maybe he’s gonna feel up my butt cheeks or something? Maybe he’s, oh. Oh. My. Goodness. His hand’s sliding between my cheeks.

He wouldn’t.

He can’t.

He’s not going to attempt number twelve on my bucket list right here in the elevator. Is he?

When his finger touches my butt hole, I tense up. His quiet murmurs in my ear tickle my skin, I can’t fight my eyes as they roll back and drift closed. “Come on, Half-Pint. Show me how you can take anything I throw at you.”

The elevator wall is cold as I reach a hand out to stabilize myself. My legs are trembling, my arms aren’t much more secure. And all he’s done is put his finger there. Is he going to, like, go inside?

I clench my butt, and he chuckles. The low rumble sending sparks straight to all my girl bits. It’s like he picked up the erotic phone tree, dialed 1-800-nips, and my nipples only too eagerly answered the call. They’re picking up whatever this guy is putting down. Even though we’re surrounded by people.

All he does is run his finger around my booty hole. He doesn’t penetrate, doesn’t put all that much pressure on me, but I can already tell I’m getting wet. And I hate myself for it. But I can’t let it go.

When I bend myself back, trying to press against his finger for more pressure, there’s a contented hum rolling around his chest that warms me all over.

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