Page 21 of The Man I Love

Her smile faded, like she knew exactly what he meant.

Having her in his arms now made all his emotions uncoil at a rapid pace. The feelings were so intense that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. “How did you get away?” he asked into her hair. “I thought you were working all weekend?”

“Mr. Covington doesn’t know I’m gone. I booked the flight last minute. I have to go back tomorrow.”

He froze, his throat as dry and rough as sandpaper, as he stepped foot in his office. “What time is your flight?”

“I have to be back at LAX by noon.”

He had sixteen hours with her. He kicked the door to his office closed and headed toward the desk. “Are you cold?” he sat her on top of it, realizing she was shivering.

She shook her head. “I think it’s adrenaline.”

“Are you nervous?”

“No.

“Then why the adrenaline?”

“Because I’m excited.”

“Why?” His whole body was clenched.

“I think you know why, Tristan Montgomery.”

He smirked because he did, in fact, know exactly what she meant. “Remind me again,” he said in a deep whisper.

“Because my panties are melting off me even as we speak.”

His grin widened, and he moved closer to her, pushing her legs open so he could stand between them. His own thighs pushed against the deep mahogany desk. “Lift your arms,” he demanded, his hands trailing up her ribcage, urging her arms overhead so he could pull her T-shirt free. He threw the wet fabric onto the floor and began working on her jeans. She leaned back on her elbows and lifted her hips upward so he could pull the heavy denim down her ass and thighs.

Now she lay on his desk in wet panties, pushing herself upward to trail a finger down his chest. “Now it’s my turn,” she said.

He flattened her hand on his belt. “It’s been too long since I last touched you. I won’t last a minute if you do that.”

“I don’t care,” she threw herself forward to kiss his neck and her eager fingers found his buckle again.

“I do,” he stated, taking both of her hands and hoisting them overhead.

She raised one brow, and he leaned her backward. She didn’t fight him, and her body flattened onto the surface of his desk. “Stay,” he whispered as he pinned her arms above her head.

She bit her lower lip, and her chest rose and fell with deep breaths. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked.

He smiled and moved one hand between her thighs, brushing one finger over her drenched panties. “Torture you,” he whispered. “Make up for all the days when I couldn’t kiss you goodnight.” His hands continued to move over her hips, her thighs, then down to her knees, which he gently pressed until they fell open.

“How do you know I can take it?” she asked. Her eyeswere glassy and seductive.

“I guess we’ll find out.” He cleared the rest of the desk with one shove, pushing all the papers to the ground. Then he hoisted one knee up and crawled onto the desk beside her, bracing himself on his elbows. He looked at her for a full minute, taking her all in. He’d been dreaming of this moment for so long that it was difficult to convince himself she was really there.

“What are you doing?” she whispered when he didn’t speak.

He raked his eyes over her body with deliberate slowness, finally stopping at her beautiful face. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but her cheeks were rosy and flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses. “Trying to convince myself you’re really here.”

Her chest rose and fell with each shaky breath, and a tear slid from the corner of her eye. “I’m here,” she promised.

He kissed her cheek, catching the salty tear on his tongue. He pressed his nose into her hairline and inhaled her scent. She smelled like a mixture of raindrops and vanilla, and something so intoxicatingly delicious that he almost felt drunk. He kissed her cheekboneand nose, then hovered above her full mouth. She sighed against his lips, and he began to kiss her deep and slow. He couldn’t explain it, but even now he craved her. Even with her lying beneath him, it wasn’t close enough. He pulled away, peppering kisses down the side of her neck, her collarbone, her chest, until he found her erect nipple and pulled into his mouth. His fingers found the waistband of her panties at the same time, but instead of pulling them down, he brushed over the thin fabric with his fingertips. She writhed against his touch, and even through cotton he could tell she was slick and hot beneath. He found her clit, and began rubbing. His cock twitched against his jeans and she arched her back, pressing her pelvis firmly into his hand. Slowly at first with a deliberate rhythm, he began to massage her, his thumb sliding against her clitoris back and forth until it hardened.

Her heels pressed into the desk and he pushed the fabric aside. His fingers then slid between her slick folds, and he curled them upward, stroking the sensitive spot he knew drove her crazy.

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