Page 80 of The Heartbreaker
She turned her face, giving an angle that was more of her profile. “What were you thinking about?”
“How I wished I had woken up next to you. Taken a shower with you. I wanted you in my closet, so I could watch you get dressed.” I clasped the back of her neck, her hair falling over the sleeve of my suit jacket. “I wanted to bring you your first cup of coffee and see you take a sip.”
“Your words are like porn.”
I laughed. “I’m verbally romantic, huh?”
“But here’s what I’ve learned about you: You’re not just talking to hear yourself speak. You mean every one of those words.”
I nodded. “I do.” I smiled. “And you thought you knew more about my daughter than me.”
“I’m getting more. Piece by piece.”
“I need you to tell me something …”
She took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“When I do this”—I leaned in until only about an inch separated us and aligned our mouths—“what does it mean to you.”
“The closeness … I’m assuming it’s because you want to smell me.”
I slid my hand to her cheek, holding her steady. “I did that the second you got into my car.”
“You want to feel me.”
“Go deeper, Addison.”
“Taste me.”
“And when I do this”—I ran my thumb across both lips—“what am I doing it for?”
“You’re memorizing me.”
“I know the feel of you. Try again.”
“You’re prepping me.”
I huffed. “I’m preppingme. Touching you is as powerful as foreplay.”
She let out a small moan. “Every second you make me wait is torture.”
“I know.”
“Ridge …” She was gazing from my right eye to my left. “Kiss me. Please.”
I tilted her face back, pressing my thumb against the side of her mouth, inventorying every crevice of her lips, the soft skin that was coated with a layer of gloss, the whiteness of her teeth hinting from behind.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I told her.
Her hand went to the back of mine. “If you think you’re the only one feelingthis… you’re wrong.”
I kissed the side of her face that I wasn’t gripping, the edge of her ear, the middle of her cheek, the corner of her mouth, and when I centered myself in front of her, I didn’t slam our lips together.
Even though the hunger was tearing through me.
Even though my hard-on was fucking raging.
I carefully locked us together, breathing her in as my tongue slipped through her parted lips, and when my lungs were filled with her, I exhaled.
