Page 122 of Lush

Reese was on me before I could say anything. The warmth of his hands on my waist sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“You’re overthinking,” he murmured, his warm breath ghosting my temple as his fingers, long and slender, traced the curve of my back. “I can practically hear it.”

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling slightly before I finally rested them on his chest; I could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.

“Reese—”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing the edge of my ear as he whispered, “Whatever’s going on in that head of yours, let it go for just one night.”

I tilted my head up, and the intensity in his eyes, a mixture of sadness and understanding, stopped me cold.

His mouth was on mine, a demanding, hot kiss that stole my breath. His hand, warm and strong, caressed my neck, sending jolts of electricity through me. His fingers threaded through my hair, pulling me into him until my legs gave way.

My mind went completely blank for the first time all night. No Harold, no blackmail, no secrets—just Reese and the way he touched me, tasted me, and whispered my name on my lips like it was the most important thing ever.

“I’m never letting you go again.” The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises.

“You’re mine,” I whispered.

“Damn right I am.”

Reese’s hands went down to my waist, tracing the delicate lace on my dress. Leaning in close, his warm breath a whisper against my neck, he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the sensitive skin below my ear.

“Take it off,” he rasped, igniting a fire within me.

He carefully loosened the bodice strap by strap. He stepped back, looking me up and down.

“I need you. Here. Now.”

The silk gown slid to the floor.

“Out here?”

Reese’s lips curved into a slow, devilish grin. “Why not?”

He reached for his shirt, his fingers working one button at a time, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The faint moonlight caught on the hard lines of his chest as he revealed it inch by inch. My breath hitched as the intricate tattoos decorating his skin came into view—sharp, bold, unapologetically him.

God, I wanted to trace every line with my lips.

I took a step toward him, my pulse hammering in my ears, but he held up a hand, halting me in my tracks. “Not yet.”

The words were a soft command, a low rumble vibrating in his chest. “Don’t touch me.”

Without a word, Reese sprawled on the chaise longue by the patio, legs out, one arm resting on the back.

Frustration and longing overwhelmed me. “Are you teasing me?”

“I like it,” he replied. “Or maybe I just want to watch you crawl to me.”

“You like me on my knees too much.” I moved forward, only in black lacy panties, no bra.

“I’m happy with you in whatever way I can have you.” He sat up a bit as I reached him, and his hand brushed my hip. I settled onto his lap, and his warm hand found my back, rubbing slow circles.

I slowly began to grind against his thigh, each movement pulling a low hum from deep in his throat, and Reese took my chin, tilting my face so I was forced to meet his gaze. Then he kissed me.

A sigh escaped my lips as our mouths met, soft at first, then a deeper, more passionate kiss. He brushed my hair behind my ear. His tongue coaxed me open. Our tongues met, slow and unhurried.

I was on the chaise longue, flat on my back, before I knew it. My whole body shook as heat pulsed between my thighs. I tilted my head back, letting him kiss me all the way down. When hisfingers grazed under the swells of my breasts, I shuddered. He gently touched my nipples.

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