Page 58 of Must Have Been Love

But this woman is different. I don’t want to be free. I want to capture her.

Most of all, I want her to want that.

She’s still standing as I look up at her. I can feel the power differential thrumming through me. If this was a business negotiation there’s no way I’d be sitting and letting her stand.

But this isn’t business. This is… I don’t know what it is.

And then, right as I think she’s going to tell me to leave, Skyler does the unexpected once more. She reaches for her own top button, sliding the metal stamped disc through the eye, then repeats it for the next and the next, until her dress is gaping at her chest.

My fingers twitch with the need to take control. To be the one unbuttoning her dress. To be the one kissing her until she’s breathless. But I’ve been in enough negotiations to know when to push and when to hold back.

She needs to equal the power differentiation between us – the one that exists in her head at least. I curl my fingers around the armrests of my chair to stop myself from reaching for her.

Her gaze is fixed firmly on me as she unbuttons four more metal discs until her dress falls completely open, revealing her luscious curves, encased in black lace lingerie. Her dragon tattoo is curled around her hip, and I’m so fucking desperate to trace it with my tongue that I almost launch myself out of my chair.

“You’re so beautiful,” I manage to rasp.

“Take your jacket off,” she whispers. So I do. I have a feeling I’d do whatever the fuck this woman asked of me right now.

And when I’m sitting there in my shirt and pants, she shucks her dress off, leaving her in her heels and lingerie and nothing else, to the delight of my already-aching cock.

“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her again.

“So are you,” she says, walking toward me, straddling my thick thighs until she’s sitting on my lap, her half-naked body curling around me.

Threading my fingers through her hair, I pull her closer, until her lips are an inch away from mine.

“You could have asked for more,” I tell her.

“I would have agreed to less,” she confesses, smiling at me.

That’s when I know I’m fucked, in the most literal of ways. And when I realize I don’t give a damn that I am. All I want to do is taste her lips and fuck her senseless, apparently not in a bed.

So I press my mouth against hers, and it’s on.

eighteen

SKYLER

I’m not sure I’ve ever been more turned on in my life than right now, as Hudson Fitzgerald kisses me hard and fast, his breath warm against my lips, his tongue teasing mine. I feel powerful yet completely at his mercy at the same time. It’s confusing and perfect in every way.

He tightens his hold on me, his hands sliding down my body, then up my stomach, my ribcage, his fingers pushing at my bra.

I break the kiss, desperate to feel his body against mine. “This needs to come off,” I say urgently, tugging at his shirt. It takes us a moment of teamwork to unfasten the buttons and throw the white cotton garment on the floor. But then he’s bare chested and I’m almost naked as he pulls me against him with his strong arms.

His skin is warm, stretched across taut muscles. A contrast to my soft curves. I run my hands over him, feeling the ridges and dips of his abdomen and chest. His eyes are dark, following my movement.

Then he reaches behind me and takes my bra off.

“Fuck,” he mutters, looking at my breasts. “How the hell are you so perfect?” I open my mouth to tell him I’m not, but he’s already standing, lifting me with him, my arms around his neck, my breasts pressed into his chest.

“Where are we going?” I murmur as he starts to stalk through the tables and chairs. Our dinner is forgotten, and I feel a momentary pang about that because that shrimp was so good. But then I have a feeling the main course – Hudson – will be even better.

“I need to look at you,” he mutters, sliding my panty-clad behind onto an empty table closer to the bar. I can see the thick ridge of his excitement clearly through his pants. “This would be much easier on a bed.”

I smile coquettishly at him. “You strike me as a man who never takes the easy way.”

“I take the easy way when it doesn’t lead to back problems,” he mutters, but then he leans forward to kiss my waist, his breath hot against my tattoo and any sassy retort I might have made dissolves on my tongue.

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