Page 50 of Single Mom's Daddies
I glance over her shoulder, down the hall. Then I open the door again and pull her inside. Victor raises a brow. Roman sighs but doesn’t comment as I shut the door behind her.
“What is this?” Saffron asks, but her voice is lower now.
“Victor,” I say, “you good?”
He nods. Roman eyes me for a second longer, then closes the laptop. “We will be going now.” The two of them leave.
They know what’s about to happen. I’m surprised they left. But it’s up to them.
Saffron turns to face me fully. “I didn’t hear anything,” she says again. “I wasn’t spying.”
“I believe you.”
“Then why am I in here?”
“Because I want you in here.”
That startles her. But she doesn’t retreat. “You don’t get to just drag people into rooms,” she says.
“I didn’t drag. I invited. With…enthusiasm.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re so full of shit.”
“You didn’t say no.”
Her silence says more than words would.
I step in close again, slow this time. “Tell me to back off.”
She doesn’t.
I take another step.
“I’m still deciding,” she breathes. Her lips part.
And I lean in. But this time, she doesn’t run. I press her back into the door.
Her gasp is soft—more inhale than sound—but I feel it. Her body fits mine like we’ve done this a dozen times before. Like her skin remembers me, even if her mind’s still catching up.
My hands are at her waist, gripping. She arches into me like she needs it. Like we both do.
The kiss is rough from the start. No hesitation this time, no cautious buildup. My mouth claims hers, hot and full and open. Her hands are already in my shirt, dragging it up, her nails biting just enough to make my breath hitch.
I yank the fabric off over my head, then return to her like I never left.
She moans when I push a thigh between hers, and the sound cuts through me like a shot of adrenaline. My hand slides up under her shirt, finds the edge of her bra, slips under it. She gasps when my thumb brushes her nipple.
“God, Nik?—”
It wrecks me, the way she says my name.
There’s a click behind us. Victor. He’s in the room again, silent as smoke, watching like a man who’s seen this coming for longer than either of us. He closes the door after Roman.
Locks it.
Saffron pulls back from me—panting, flushed, lips swollen.
Victor’s gaze moves over her slowly, deliberately.
