Page 53 of Forbidden Confessions: Vol. 2
“Vanessa.” He swallows as if he’s trying to say something difficult. “We need to talk.”
Of course. He’s changed his mind. He wants to tell me his come-on was merely the wine talking. Or that he was simply horny. Or that he only said what he thought would take my mind off everything traumatic yesterday.
But I don’t want to hear whatever bad news he feels the need to break. If this is my one chance, despite the fact we work together and I only know what I’m doing because I read some really hot books, I’m going to give this my all.
“Can it wait?”
He looks confused. Then his stare rakes me again. His hands curl into fists. “Is something wrong?”
“No. But I need to…” What? Plead with him to forget that, until last night, he was merely my co-worker who never showed a bit of interest in me? “Never mind. I can’t say this with words.”
Before I lose my nerve, I stomp in his direction, plaster my body against his, and stand on my tiptoes to circle my arms around his neck. For the second time in my life, I impulsively press my lips to his.
He freezes. I feel his surprise. It takes him a moment, and I’m so afraid he’ll push me away that my heart starts aching as it trips in my chest.
But Rush doesn’t. An instant later, he recovers from being startled—with a vengeance.
Suddenly, his fingers are in my hair, tugging me right where he wants me. Then he slants his lips over mine, takes control, and surges into my mouth with a hungry growl.
He’s everywhere—against my tongue, tugging on my scalp, heating my breasts, and prodding the hard rod of his erection between my legs. I’m dizzy, my head spinning, as he bends enough to reach around me, grab my thighs, and lift me against his body. I gasp into his kiss as my legs automatically anchor around his hips and I feel every inch of him against my sex.
Oh. My. God.
I wriggle against him. Need blooms between my legs and jets heady arousal through my veins. It’s intoxicating. It’s wonderful. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
Before I writhe against him again, Rush tosses me on the bed and follows me down into the cloud of the soft quilt, breathing rough. “I’ve been dying to do that for so long.”
He captures my nipple—cami and all—into his mouth and sucks hard. My arousal turns sharp, jolting straight between my legs. I need. What is he doing to me?
“Is that a yes?” I manage to whimper.
“Tell me this is what you want.” He palms my breast, breathing hard. “I told you I’d ruin you. I meant it.”
It’s so difficult to think when his thumb brushes against my nipple back and forth, the rhythm almost hypnotic. But I don’t have to think about it. If I’m being honest, I have more than a crush on him. I’m half in love, and even if he walks away, I’ll have one amazing memory.
“I don’t care. I want you to.” I look into his eyes, which go from dark to impossibly black. “Ruin me. I’m sure. Don’t hold back.”
“Jesus, you don't know what you’re asking for. Vanessa…” he groans—a sound I feel all the way to the throbbing flesh between my legs. “I want you so bad, I can barely fucking breathe.”
“I feel the same,” I breathe.
“I need to see you,” he rasps, his hands spanning my waist. “All of you. I’ve imagined this so many times.” He trails kisses down my throat, across my collarbone, taking his time like he’s savoring every inch, before he murmurs words that make me melt against my skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
His mouth finds my other breast while his hands explore, and I arch beneath him, desperate for more contact. “Rush, please…”
“One last question: Is this just a casual fuck to you?”
Is he serious?
His hard expression tells me he’s not going any further until I answer him. What is he looking for?
“Do you want it to be?”
Rush glowers. “I’m asking the questions. Does this mean more to you than sex?”
I still don’t know what the “right” answer is, so I might as well be honest. Besides, if we keep going, he’s going to figure this out anyway. “Yes. It means a lot to me.”
Everything…
