Page 39 of Single Mom's Secret Diary
Avery’s arms drop to her sides, hands clenching into fists like she wants to throw something. It shouldn’t send heat through me, but it does. I like the passion. Especially since I seem to be the cause of it.
“Listen to me.” My hands lift to pacify her, but her eyes narrow.
“Why should I listen? Why is every man a poon hound? Sleeping with any naive girl who crosses their path.”
I cup her face and bring her close. Traces of bittersweet chocolate hang on her breath. God, I just want to kiss her.
“Stop. Just listen. I cannot deny that I have had more than my fair share of women, but I have had no others since you walked on site.”
She slams her fist into my chest, defiant. God, her anger reminds me of my mother. Why does that turn me on so much? That Italian passion that strikes out swiftly and doesn’t dim until she has something else to aim it toward. I’ll have to admit that my father made the right choice. This is as intoxicating as it is scary to be the focus of.
“You do not make a conquest out of every new female hire?”
I hate that this is my reputation. That she can think I am so desperate as to target unwitting females and press my power over them like that.
“I flirt, beautiful. But that is all.” My thumb traces her cheekbone, waiting for her to decide whether she believes me, trusts me.
Fuck, I need her to trust me. I’m so fucking gone for her that I won’t survive otherwise.
She bites her lip, eyes narrowing as if excavating my long-lost soul. Avery’s the first to make that dig in a long, long time. Nearly a decade of being buried and protected from the elements, and now it beats between her hands.
Please don’t crush it, beautiful.
When she still hesitates, I kiss her. It’s soft and pleading, and that she doesn’t push me away is a triumph.
“Please tell me you believe me.”
She’s already transformed my heart from the cold and broken thing it has been for so long.
Avery examines me for a few more agonizing seconds before she pulls me back into a kiss. My hand slips back into her hair, angling her head for better access to her mouth. The tiniest of moans is like a sword to the gut. It cuts me open completely.
I turn us and pin her against the door. Her knee lifts, and I cup the back of it in my hand, pressing into her harder until she can feel how stiff she’s made my cock.
“If you need me to worship you to prove my point, I am more than happy to oblige.”
Her breath comes heavily, and her palms slide across my chest, fighting how much she wants to take me up on my offer.
“She knew about the thing you do with your tongue.” Avery clenches her jaw and pierces me with those beautiful hazel eyes again.
I lift my brow. “I do many things with my tongue. Which one are you referring to?”
Her frown is sweet on her face because the lingering anger is fading.
“Or do you need me to remind you of every little trick I have acquired?”
A sharp intake of breath is my favorite reward, and I kiss her again softly, showing her one of the moves. The fact that it makes her cling to my shoulders and rock against me speaks volumes.
“That one?”
Avery is panting.
“Or maybe I need to lift this skirt and get on my knees to properly educate you.”
Her chest heaves harder, her grip tightening. Her pupils are blown so wide that I can see my reflection in them. It’s heady, and I’m tempted to show her everything I’ve got.
Those slender fingers draw up my neck, sending shivers through me. Delight flits over her features before she sinks those digits into my hair, and she’s pulling my mouth back against hers, meeting my need with a ferocity of her own.
I push my hard-on against her hip as I rub us together. Her grip on me is so tight that I swear she wants to climb me.
