Page 35 of A Taste of Chardonnay

“What?” I muttered.

He grabbed my face, and before I could say another word, form another thought, his lips were on mine. I’d thought about this moment many times. Brady had been a constant curiosity in my mind since we were kids.

His lips demanded my surrender, and for once, I didn’t want to fight for control. I wanted to submit. I wanted to submit to him.

Or at least try.

For years I loved her, then hated her. All those emotions careened together and poured into the kiss. My mouth moved against hers hard and desperate, attempting to make up for twenty lost years. She didn’t try to pull away or hit me, instead she sunk into me, her fingers digging into my scalp and pulling me down to her, tighter, harder, just as desperately as I felt.

She tried to take the lead, but there was no way in hell that was happening. She was in control in all aspects of her life. It was time she let the reins go.

“My office,” she said against my mouth. “I have a couch.”

I pressed her into me, my cock straining against my pants. She inhaled at the contact. One hand slid down her side to her ass, and using my strength, I lifted her with one arm onto the bar.

This time, she inhaled a ragged breath. “What are you doing?”

“Taking control.” I fisted her hair, tugging it slightly, revealing her silken skin. I dipped my head, kissing a path to the crook of her neck. Her body arched into me, her arms flinging around my neck, holding me close. Little whimpers rose in her throat, the vibrations dancing across my mouth.

My fingers curled into the lapels of her suit jacket, and I ripped it down her arms.

“We should go to the couch,” she said again, but her voice was faint, breathy, and not very convincing. She was clinging to control, and I couldn’t have that. I needed her free, screaming out my name and succumbing to the pleasure.

“You don’t listen. I’m in control.” I ran my tongue across her collarbone, my fingers flicking the buttons of her shirt. “Let me.”

“I’m trying.”

“Relax.”

“I am relaxed, but we should go upstairs to the couch.” Her voice wavered.

I kissed up her neck, stopping to suck on the spot along her jawline before continuing. “Or we can stay right here.” I grabbed her thighs and yanked her until she was pressed tightly against my growing erection.

Her legs wrapped around me, and with a smile, I lifted her from the bar.

“Oh good. Couch is good.”

“No couch,” I said, refusing to give into her demands. She’d been calling the shots for so long, and I was going to love teasing her.

“No,” I grumbled as I grabbed the blanket she dropped. “We’re going to fuck right here.”

Her eyes widened, and she glanced around the tasting room. “In the open?”

I shook my head, not breaking my hold on her eyes. “Right here.” The wind chose that moment to pick up, releasing an angry howl as tree branches slammed together, and the building creaked against the force. I dropped the blanket and bent down, resting her on top of the soft material.

“We’re old. Aren’t you afraid of hurting your knees or your back?”

A laugh rumbled my throat. Her sensibility was as adorable as it was ridiculous. “I climb rocks for fun. I think I can manage.”

I ripped my shirt off and tossed it aside. The hollow of her neck bobbed. Her teeth slid over her bottom lip, and her gaze roamed my chest. I kneeled between her thighs, capturing her mouth. A sexy moan rumbled against our lips, and I urged her to lie back.

I flicked the button of her pants open and jerked the zipper down. My fingers dipped to the top of her panties, tracing a line where skin met... lace. I did not imagine buttoned-up Chardonnay as a lace girl. Cotton maybe.

But lace… My cock pulsated with the thought.

With no patience, I tugged her pants down her legs, revealing the red material. My brain stopped functioning, mouth agape as I took her in. She was pure perfection in red, and I was simply not worthy. I never was.

She slipped her shirt off, revealing a matching red bra. “Your turn,” she said, reaching for my pants.

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