Page 51 of Designed for Disaster

“Because every time I kiss you, I just wantmore.And the kind ofmoreI’m hungry for is best explored behind closed doors with locks on them.” I kissed her again, and she kissed me back, her hands fisting in my hair, tugging in a way that drove me wild. It was like she couldn’t get close enough. I tilted my head and ran my tongue along her lips. They were so lush and pillowy. When she opened her mouth to me, I pressed my tongue inside, tasting the bite of whiskey on her breath.

Natasha groaned into my mouth, the kiss growing wild and sloppy as she panted against me. My hand skimmed the space where the dress split, inching up the smooth skin of her thigh.

I kept going, a bold thrill shooting through me as she moved into my touch, her chest rising and falling erratically as my fingers finally brushed the edge of her delicate lace underwear.

“Are you wearing something pretty for me?” I asked, my voice husky in her ear. I imagined hooking my finger through her underwear and dragging them down her legs, or better yet, using my teeth to pull them off her.

Natasha let out a breathy little moan, throwing her head back to expose her neck. I latched on to her pulse point, sucking until she was whispering my name repeatedly, rolling her hips against the pressure of my hand between her thighs.

“Are you?” I said again. She made a confused little noise. “Wearing something nice for me?”

She pulled back enough to look me in the eye, then lay her hand over mine. “Why don’t you keep going and find out?”

God! I groaned into her ear, mustering all my self-control as I forced myself to pull back, removing my hand from her thigh, trying to put some space between us. At least enough to clear my head. Removing the temptation of Natasha would be impossible, but the space would ensure things didn’t getentirelyout of hand before we got to my place.

But Natasha’s hand was still buried in my hair. She tugged, rolling her hips toward me. “Don’t stop,” she panted. “You don’t have to stop.”

“I do.”

“Please,” she whispered, the sound so beautifully desperate I wanted to immediately put her out of her misery.

“We’re almost there,” I said, smiling at her.

She groaned in frustration. “Tell the driver to do a couple laps around the block.”

I chuckled. “Is that all it’s going to take?”

“Maybe less,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” I promised. “I’ll make sure you thoroughly enjoy yourself once we’re upstairs.”

“I could enjoy myself here,” she said, squirming against the seat, looking deliciously wanton—her elegant dress and classy make-up contrasted with her kiss-swollen lips and the sheer hunger in her eyes.

“Are you that desperate, Hellcat?” Her breathy little sighs were like music to my ears. It was torture not touching her, but a delicious kind of torture. I knew the anticipation would just make it better in the end.

“Aren’t you?”

I stroked my thumb along her cheekbone. “There’s nothing I want more than you right now.”

Her brow arched, her hand running down my chest to the bulge in my pants. She squeezed lightly, smirking as I jerked against her. “Just making sure.”

“Trust me, I want you to have the full Trent Saunders experience. And I can’t do my best work in the back of a moving vehicle.”

The car came to a stop. Thank fucking god, because I didn’t know if I was going to be able to hold out much longer. Natasha tugged her dress back into place as I pushed the door open, climbing out. I reached back for her hand, helping her out of the car.

“Just so you know, I would have settled for subpar work,” she whispered as she passed me.

“You shouldn’t have to settle for anything,” I growled, staring down at her in the amber glow of the streetlights. She gave a sharp little inhale, shivering in the night’s chill.

“Trent,” she said.

“Yes?” Her eyes sparkled as much as her dress. I couldn’t wait to get it off her.

“Take me upstairs.”

I kissed her hand, then escorted her into my building, past the concierge. I hustled us into the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor. As soon as the door closed, Natasha was immediately in my arms, my hands fisting in the fabric of her dress, hiking it up her body. I didn’t know if we were even going to make it out of the elevator as she started pulling my shirt from my pants.

Natasha turned in my arms, grinding back against my lap. I smoothed my hands over her shoulders and across her collarbones, squeezing her full breasts through the dress. “You’re so sexy,” I growled into her ear.

---