Page 68 of You Rock My World
I smirk. “And you’re not?”
His jaw tics. “This is dangerous.”
I hum, threading my fingers deeper into his hair. “For who?”
His breath stutters. “For both of us.”
And yet—neither of us moves.
I want to kiss him. I crave to taste him. My gaze drops to his mouth, avid, and he notices. He, too, fixes on my lips and then looks back up at me, a question swirling in his eyes.
I’m not sure what my answer is, but it’s leaning dangerously close to,Fuck the rules, kiss me.
I experimentally rock my hips on his lap, and a choked, inhuman sound rips from his throat. His hands drag down my thighs. They skim over the fabric of my dress, creating the slightest friction, a whisper of pressure that makes my skin prickle underneath.
I shouldn’t push this. But I do.
I shift again, rolling against him just to see what he’ll do. His breathing is shallow, and he drops his head back against the couch, exposing the line of his throat.
I watch, fascinated, as his Adam’s apple bobs.
“Josie,” he warns, voice wrecked, breath jagged, like he’s wrestling the last thread of control and it’s slipping fast.
I smirk, dragging my nails lightly over his scalp. “Problem?”
His eyes snap to me, dark and glassy, while his hands skim lower, tracing the hem of my skirt on my thighs, but staying rigorously on top of the fabric.
It’s not enough. I don’t want him tame. I want to feel him on my skin.
I push into him again.
“You don’t want to test me right now,” he rasps, the sound a growl, a warning—or a plea, I can’t tell.
I kiss his neck. “Then stop me.”
He doesn’t. His fingertips sneak under my dress instead—finally—dragging up my thighs, stopping before he’s where I need him most. I could scream with want. But I’m not the only one suffering. His fingers spasm. He could wreck me so easily, and just when I think he might?—
A knock comes. Loud. Invasive. Reality barging back in.
We break apart too fast, two guilty teenagers caught doing something they shouldn’t. He lifts me and sets me up on my feet, standing next to me.
Tessa’s voice filters in from the hallway. “Dorian? You in here?”
I’m not sure if I’m more relieved or disappointed by the interruption. “Saved by the bell, Phoenix.”
Dorian lifts my hand and kisses the pulse point on my wrist. “For now.”
And that single, tender gesture unravels me more completely than if he’d ripped my dress clean off.
31
DORIAN
After Tessa interrupts us, and Josie goes home, I’m still keyed up, my body tight with unspent tension. Every inch of me she touched refuses to forget, it craves more. I regret nothing—except maybe stopping.
I pace the length of my living room, replaying each second of our almost-moment.
Would a kiss really have been that reckless?I ask myself, knowing full well the answer. If we cross that line, everything changes. But right now, the thought of her parted lips is driving me insane. I can’t hold out much longer.
