Page 167 of Bitter Poetry
“You’re worried about him?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, me too.”
My breath hitches.
His cell begins to ring. “I need to take this.”
He lifts me off his lap and sits me on the coffee table facing him as he reaches for his cell and lifts it to his ear. “What have you got?”
He holds up his hand to stop me when I go to get up. The coffee table is glass-topped and cool underneath my thighs.
“Stay there?”he mouths as he listens to whatever is being said. Then he catches the hem of my T-shirt and, with his eyes on mine, gives a little tug.“Off.”
Oh God!The instruction, the intense look in his dark eyes, kicks off a pulse in my core. I stare back at him as I draw his T-shirt off over my head and drop it onto the floor, leaving me naked but for my panties.
He leans back into the couch, his eyes trailing a lazy path down me.
“Hmm, that sounds like a good idea.” And to me.“Open.”
My breath catches as I acknowledge what he means. Slowly, I spread my legs wide.
He continues listening to whatever’s being said on his phone. His thumb brushes over his lower lip as he stares at the juncture of my thighs.
“Yes, he can make a call.”
His eyes skip back to mine.“Off.”
My breathing elevates. I draw my legs back together, hook my thumbs in the sides of my panties, and peel them down.
He holds out his hand.
I hesitate.
He raises his brows in challenge.
I drop them into his waiting hand.“Good girl. Now open again.”
I spread my legs slowly, his eyes tracking the movement, his cheeks taking on a darker hue. He tightens his fingers over my panties and brings them to his nose.
Breathing my scent in.
His eyes turn hooded. Mine drops to the apex of his spread thighs where his cock bulges against the material of his dress pants.
I swallow, wondering how he would taste. I’ve never done that to a man willingly. I’m curious. I’m definitely interested.
“We need to make a plan for that.”
I snap my focus back to his eyes. He’s staring right back at me and looks amused. He makes a ‘back’ motion with his hand. Frowning faintly, I let myself roll back my elbows.
He stops me there, sits forward, taps my lips.“Open, baby.”I part my lips—he pushes my bunched panties between my teeth.
My eyes widen.
He rises, and my frantic eyes track him as he goes to the refrigerator. Taking out a bottle of water, he snaps the lid open and drinks, still listening to his call.
He lowers the bottle, glances across at me, and grins.
