Page 69 of The Merger
He drags me into him until not a sheet of paper could fit between us. I shudder against him—at the contact, at the taste of his mouth,and the promise of more.
My knees wobble as he cups my face, and his fingertips burn into my skin. He parts my lips with his tongue as if he’s claiming ownership, and all I can do is tilt my chin and give him more access to take what he wants.
I grip his shoulders with both hands. The thick muscles flex against my palms as I dig my nails into his back.
The kiss grows more frantic—frenzied—and his lips move across mine without pause.
I gasp a breath, dizzied, running my hands down his hard pecs, abs, and to the waistband of his pants.
“No,” he says against my lips. The sound vibrates into my core. “Not here.”
I growl against his mouth. “I’m losing my fucking patience.”
He presses one last kiss to me, then pulls back.
Our breathing is ragged as we try to regain our composure, but after our eyes meet, smiles split our cheeks.
Oh my God. His smile.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen on him. There’s no tightness, no mischief—no cocky remark on the tip of his tongue. He’s truly smiling at me for the first time, and it leaves me as breathless as our kiss.
His cheeks are flushed, his lips swollen. A sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead. He grabs at his collar and pulls it from his neck as he watches me.
“I don’t want to do this here.”
“Gannon—”
“You’re getting fucked tonight,” he says with a smirk over my objection. “But, please. I don’t want to do it here.”
There’s a faint plea embedded in the words that I can’t unhear. I also can’t deny it—or him. “Okay.”
He turns to his desk. “I have meetings until six. Can you be at my house at seven?”
“We’re scheduling sex now?”
He pauses and looks back at me. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” I say, grinning. “It’s actually the best thing I’ve ever heard.”
His shoulders fall. He shakes his head and picks up a pen and a piece of paper. A few scribbles are drawn on it before he hands it to me.
“That’s my address.” He tosses the pen on his desktop. “Seven works?”
“Seven works.” I back away toward the door. “If you change your mind, let me know.”
His chuckle is loud and unexpected.
I take that as a good sign and leave before he has the chance to do just that—change his mind.
Chapter Sixteen
Carys
I roll down my window.
“May I see your identification, ma’am?” The man in the guard shack holds out his hand. “Who are you here to see?”
“Gannon Brewer.” I glance down the long, winding driveway before me. “He asked me to be here at seven.”
