Page 57 of Puck You Very Much

Lucy’s heartbeat quickened and her stomach contracted. Nice? No. That wasn’t the word she was thinking.Morewas closer to the idea.

More than she would have imagined Dax capable of. More than she could bear. More than she had allowed herself to want. Everything about the kiss had been feeling and giving, not wanting or taking. And she had thought Dax was only good at taking. That he didn’t want anything more than to take. Thatsheonly wanted to take. Still, her breathing was shallow. Still, her lips were slightly parted as she stared at him. The heat in her veins rippled and drove the blood to her burning cheeks, overwhelming her heart, making it falter.

She should go. She should turn and leave the room now. Above all, she should not ask what she really wanted to ask.

“Dax,” she said, “did you just kiss me because you want to beat Jack?”

He shook his head. “I kissed you because I’ve been thinking about nothing else for days.”

And that’s when she lost her mind. She saw it practically float out of her head as her body took over. Her eyelids closed slightly and her mouth went dry. She wanted this. Wanted it badly. Had convinced herself it was awful. But how awful could something be if it felt so good?

Still standing close to her, she heard Dax swallow, his hand still on her back.

“Lucy?”

“Yes?”

“You have to stop looking at me that way.”

“Why?”

“Because it gives me incredibly stupid ideas. For example, that you enjoy kissing me.”

Lucy swallowed, bit her lip…and nodded. She couldn’t stop herself. He would notice her pupils dilating anyway, the pulse in her neck beating faster, and the blush filling her cheeks.

Because I’ve been thinking about nothing else for days.

She hadn’t thought about anything else for days either—and she was tired of arguing. She wanted to finally…make up.

As if she had said the words aloud, Dax moaned and claimed her mouth again. This time, there was nothing left of his caution. This time, he threwgentleout the window. His lips were deliciously rough, his tongue slid against hers…and the desire she felt with each move reflected her own.

Her mind was empty, her former doubts were insignificant. All that was left was the lust that had been building inside her for weeks. She ran her hands through his hair and pulled his head down to hers. She was happy she was wearing high heels, but they were obviously not high enough for Dax. The next moment, he grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the desk behind them, then roughly pushed her pencil skirt up so that he could step between her legs and deepen the kiss. His hands were greedy now, his lips even greedier. Still, Lucy wanted more. She wanted him to keep his promise. His promise ofmore.

She slid her hands under his jacket, over his hard abdominal muscles. They danced beneath her touch while he tugged at her tucked-in blouse. He gathered the fabric aside and grasped her bare waist. His hands were cold and rough on her heated, soft skin. They made her shiver, sending goosebumps up her back and a sweet heaviness into her belly.

With a light touch, his fingers wandered, carefully exploring every inch of bare skin as if he were afraid of missing something. When he finally cupped her breasts over her bra and squeezed them lightly, Lucy felt like she was on fire. A groan escaped her as tiny bolts of lightning darted down her abdomen. Yes, he was the devil. She bit his lower lip to punish him when he stopped. To punish him for savoring the touches for far too long. For tormenting her. For not pushing it.

She felt him smile against her mouth as he roughly rubbed her nipples with his thumbs, eliciting another moan from her.

“For the record,” he whispered, grazing her skin with his beard as he continued playing with her breasts, “I never said I didn’t find your body perfect.” He kissed her again. Deep and wet. Then he slid his lips along her jawline and bit her earlobe as his words washed over her like sunlight. “In fact, I think it’s more than perfect!”

She nodded, and tilted her head so he could kiss her neck better while she tugged impatiently at his shirt to get at more of his muscles, but it just wouldn’t come free from his pants. “Okay,” she breathed. “And I thought I was the last woman on earth you’d want to get involved with.”

“I lied,” he gasped, sliding his splayed fingers under her skirt and pulling the waistband of her thin pantyhose down. Each of his touches made her press her thighs around him tighter, a sweet throbbing between them. “I thought if I said it out loud, it would come true.”

“Ah, that’s not how the world works,” she replied breathlessly and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hot breath on her neck.

“No shit.” His mouth was on hers again and then sliding to her jaw, drawing wet streaks along her throat, all the while rolling her pantyhose agonizingly slowly down her thighs.

Lucy held her breath. Dax traced every inch of exposed skin with his fingers, drawing leisurely circles over the inside of her legs, and, at the same time, gently tormenting her collarbone with his teeth. She wanted more. Needed more, as he left behind goosebumps wherever his lips and fingers touched. Finally, the delicate stockings fell to the floor, with her skirt following.

Dax pulled away, peered deep into her eyes, and spread her thighs. As his thumbs pressed into her soft flesh, he let his gaze wander leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world while she looked up at him with her mouth open. She swallowed when she noticed how every second his irises darkened, how he licked his lips when his eyes came to her breasts, and how he held his breath as he stared at his tanned fingers against her pale skin.

Lucy suddenly realized that she was sitting in front of him on this strange desk in only her underwear while he was fully dressed. He had touched her almost everywhere—her hands, however, had not so much as reached under the vest of his stupid suit. And by God, the mere thought of it made her even wetter. It made her heart beat faster and the throbbing between her legs unbearable. Because there was still so much to explore.

She could see the fabric of his suit trousers stretching and wanted to reach out to him, to finally touch him. To finally take action. But he grabbed her hands and shook his head. “Oh no,” he murmured, “you’ll need those to hold on to my hair.”

The next moment, he slid to his knees in front of her, her leg over his shoulder, and kissed her inner thigh.

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