Page 115 of Waiting Game

Once we’ve made our selections, barely five minutes pass before he arrives with the cake stand and all the accouterments of afternoon tea, followed by a large dish with various squares of brownies surrounding a grilled cheese sandwich on sourdough. It’s a weird combo but with all that sugar, I know the grilled cheese is going to hit the spot.

“That’s everything,” I tell him once he’s finished serving. “Thanks.”

He smiles at me then motions to a button on the back wall. “If you need anything else, hit that and I’ll be with you shortly. There are signs outside if you have to use the restroom.”

“Thank you,” Mia pipes up, but as the door closes behind him, she asks, “Do you think rich guys like you often bring chicks here?”

“I’m thinking that’s the main purpose of this room, yeah,” I state, amused by the question as I pick up a brownie and take a bite. “Holy fuck.” I shove the square at her. “Try that.”

She pops some into her mouth then releases the darkest, silkiest moan that makes my cock do the tango on its way to getting hard. “My god, what’s in this? Crack?!”

I pull her deeper into my hold so she can feel my dick. “If you’re going to moan like that every time you eat something, then I need you to feel the repercussions of your actions.”

A soft smirk creases her jaw. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“That moan was practically illegal,” I grumble.

“I can’t help that you’re susceptible to sounds.”

I stare at her tits. “And sights. Don’t forget the sights.” I lift my hand and gently hover it at the neckline of her dress. She watches me, her eyes locked on mine. “Can I?”

“You can,” she rasps, then she shivers as I make a bridge between us.

Immediately, goose bumps pop up along her chest and her head arches back.

I’ve seen her come so many goddamn times, but I never had the chance to seethis. The visceral reaction tomytouch. I already know that it’s more addictive than carbs, which is saying fucking something with the flavor of crack brownie still on my tongue.

I trail my fingers around the hippie neckline. “Do you forgive me?”

Her lips quirk up at the corners. “For what?”

“I deserve that,” I tease. “You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?”

“Technically, we hooked up. Bada bing, bada boom. Then, we didn’t see each other again.”

While she’s right, I know she isn’t.

We had a strong connection that night and only Liam derailed it.

Well, that’s not entirely fair.

Her past actions derailed it?—

Mia’s sudden moan has my thoughts shattering to dust. Realizing I was still caressing her décolleté, I stare at her nipples which are budding through the thin fabric as she hisses, “God, that feels good.”

“I’m nowhere even close to your nipples, honey.”

Her smile is shaky. “I’m hyper-sensitive to touch.”

Huh. “Could you get off like this? Is that something we need to experiment with?”

“If I tell you, you can’t laugh.”

That wasn’t the answer I expected. “Hit me with it.”

“I hate being touched.”

My hand stills. “You do?”

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