Page 8 of Getting Lucky in London

“Onlyyoucould do that.” She shook her head for emphasis and teetered on her heels. I caught her against my chest, my hands on her upper arms. Those full breasts pressed against me, almost spilling from her dress.

My cock, which had deflated at the sound of Liz’s voice, stirred to life again, and I thought I might do anything for a glimpse of the nipples hiding just out of sight. “How’s that, luv?”

“Well,” she purred, splaying her hands on my chest, “you made a choice, and I’m still waiting.”

My gaze flew upward to meet hers. “For what?”

She smiled. “To get lucky.”

****

Danielle

I blinked in disappointment as Michael scanned the gallery. I’d thought we were back to flirting, but instead of accepting my obvious invitation, he’d turned serious again. I felt as if I were on a roller-coaster of emotion. Or was that the champagne catching up with me?

Shouldn’t have had that third glass.

What was he looking for anyway? A better question would be,whowas he looking for? My brother? No, Dominic said he’d explained the situation and let Michael know I’d be alone, so—

Wait.Was he looking for a better offer? Did he regret dumping Skizzy Lizzy?

My tummy tumbled, but before I could tell him to forget it, his beautiful blue eyes, gleaming with lusty purpose, returned to mine.

His lips parted in a sexy grin. “Your place or mine?”

The acidic flare of jealousy that had simmered in my belly turned to smoldering flames of lust…and a bit of remorse for misjudging him. “Yours.”

“Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand and led me through the maze of art and people. As we passed Dizzy Lizzy, I couldn’t resist taunting the woman with a smug smile and a wave goodbye.

As soon as I stepped into the cool night air, the fog in my brain cleared, but only enough to make me wonder when I’d become such a bitch. Pride had always been my downfall, but petty jealousy?

I blamed the alcohol.

And tomorrow you’ll blame your rash decision to sleep with Michael on it, too.

“Damn straight,” I muttered under my breath and almost bumped into him when he stopped at the curb.

“There’s one,” he said as if I had a clue whatonehe referred to. His hand at my back as he guided me to a waiting taxi dissolved the guilt threatening to spoil my good time.

He opened the door, and I slid into the backseat. As he got in beside me, his thigh, hard and hot, grazed mine, and I shivered. He gave the driver an address in Kensington and settled back in the seat.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to touch him. As I turned into him, he reached for me. Our breaths had only a second to mingle before his firm lips met mine. Too needy to be coy, I opened to him. His tongue swept me into a hot, hungry vortex of passion. I gripped his collar and tugged him closer.

A hand landed on my bare thigh, then tunneled beneath the hem of my dress. His other arm tightened around my back, mashing my breasts against his hard chest. His heat enveloped me, making me shudder again, and his fingers drove into the hair at the base of my skull and angled me into a deeper kiss.

My heart raced. My clit pulsed. I almost couldn’t breathe. I didn’t care.

The strong, athletic fingers on my thigh squeezed, dragging my hips toward him. My purse dug into my hip, denying the connection I most craved. With a garbled cry of frustration, I swung my leg over his thighs and rose to straddle him.

He groaned, and I whimpered as my pussy lined up with the long, thick ridge under his fly. The fingers under my dress had glided farther up and now gripped my hip to hold me still, preventing the grind I needed to fling me over the edge of orgasm.

His other hand fisted in her hair and tugged lightly. He slowed the kiss, then withdrew to nip at my lower lip. “Wait.”

I opened my eyes but couldn’t think for the stupor of unfulfilled need enthralling me. “Huh?”

He chuckled. “Let’s slow down a bit.”

Wait? Slow down?Michael Winters was finally kissing me, touching me, and about to do some downright nasty things to me. I’d waited over a decade for this. I didn’t want to wait anymore. I didn’t want to slow down. I wanted to fuck him.

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