Page 22 of Pucking My Grumpy Accidental Husband
"I want you to kiss me like you did in Vegas. I want to remember what it feels like to be wanted instead of being a problem to be solved."
That's all the invitation I need.
But instead of crushing my mouth to hers like every instinct is screaming at me to do, I move slowly. Deliberately. My hands slide into her hair, and I can feel her pulse racing under my thumbs as I tilt her head back.
"I've been thinking about this," I murmur, my lips barely grazing her temple, "every damn second since Vegas."
She shivers, her hands fisting in my shirt. "Dax..."
"The way you taste," I continue, pressing a feather-light kiss to her cheekbone. "The sounds you make when I touch you here." My mouth finds that sensitive spot just below her ear, and she gasps.
"Oh God."
"The way you said my name when you came apart in my arms." I trail kisses down her throat, taking my time, savoring every inch of soft skin. When I reach her collarbone, I pause, my breath hot against her skin.
"Please," she whispers, and the desperate edge in her voice nearly breaks my control.
I press my lips to her collarbone, kissing along the delicate line of bone, and she arches against me with a soft moan that goes straight to my cock. Her skin is soft and warm and tastes faintly of that perfume that's been haunting my dreams.
"You're so beautiful," I breathe against her throat, my tongue tracing the hollow at the base of her neck. "So fucking perfect."
Her nails dig into my shoulders through my shirt, and when I suck gently at the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, her knees actually buckle. I catch her against me, steadying her with my hands on her waist.
"I can't... I can't think when you do that," she pants, her head falling back to give me better access.
"Good. Don't think. Just feel."
I work my way back up her throat with deliberate slowness, placing open-mouthed kisses along her jawline while she trembles against me. By the time I reach the corner of hermouth, we're both breathing hard, and I can feel the rapid flutter of her pulse against my lips.
"Dax," she says, and my name on her lips is like a prayer and a demand all at once.
I pull back just enough to look at her. Her eyes are gold and unfocused, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looks like she's already been thoroughly kissed, and I haven't even touched her mouth yet.
"Tell me you want this," I say, my thumb tracing the line of her bottom lip.
"I want this. I want you."
Finally, finally, I cover her mouth with mine. The kiss is soft at first, almost reverent, but when she opens for me with a soft sigh, everything changes. Three days of wanting and pretending and trying to be professional explodes between us like a dam bursting.
She tastes like wine and want and everything I've been craving. Her tongue meets mine, and the heat of her mouth makes me groan against her lips. My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her flush against me, and when she feels how hard I am, she makes a sound that's half gasp, half moan.
"Fuck," I breathe against her mouth, backing her toward the wall. "I missed this. Missed you."
"Me too," she pants, her hands sliding under my shirt to map the muscles of my back. "God, me too."
I pin her against the wall with my body, one hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her hip as I kiss her deeper. She responds immediately, her body molding against mine like wewere made to fit together. When she nips at my bottom lip, I lose what's left of my control and grind against her.
"Tessa," I groan, my mouth moving to her throat again. "I want?—"
"Show me," she whispers, voice trembling with need.
My hand slides up her side, my thumb brushing the underside of her breast through her blouse, and she arches into the touch with a soft cry. I'm reaching for the buttons of her shirt when?—
"Dax! You in there, man?" Jamie's voice carries through the wall.
Fuck.
Tessa and I stare at each other in horror.
