Page 13 of The Arrogant One
That was what ate at me while I stood in the center of his suite, my hands on the back of the couch, watching him as he watched me.
Feeling him as he watched me.
There wasn’t a part of my body that wasn’t tingling from his gaze.
It was like we were animals of prey, waiting for one to make a move so the other could attack. But it wasn’t claws that were going to come out. It was teeth, tongues, bodies, naked and sweating.
This was a sexual energy I’d never felt before, which was what I’d tell Bryn, my best friend, when I called her in the morning to explain why I’d texted her a few minutes ago with my location and told her to keep an eye on me. A story that would make her entire year since she’d been begging me to let loose and finally get laid.
Maybe dropping this good-girl persona had something to do with how handsome he was. If I was going to have my first one-night stand, I wanted it to be with someone as sexy as him.
He had thick hair the color of a dark coffee roast, deep green eyes, a nose that didn’t get lost on his face, and wide lips that framed the most perfect smile, with a height that had to be around six-three. Above his clothes was a broadness, which toldme that beneath were all kinds of muscle and grooves that my hands were dying to touch.
And his scent.
Dear God.
A combo of citrus and cedar, like the one spot in the middle of the woods that had a little less branch coverage and the warmth could seep through.
Lockhart was positioned with his back to the bar, his hands in his pockets. “Are you going to come over here?”
I dragged my fingers over the hard backing of the couch and across the top of the pillows. “I like it over here.”
“But I’m not over there.”
“No.” I drew in air and couldn’t believe how hard it was to do that. “But I can still feel you. Don’t forget, your finger has only been out of me for a few minutes.” An admission that made me blush.
Not because I couldn’t believe he had done it, but because I couldn’t believe how good it had felt and how quickly he had gotten me off.
“I could never forget … I can still taste you.”
Would I ever be able to get that visual out of my head—of him licking me off his fingers? When, every time I zoomed in on his mouth, that was all I could see?
He turned toward the bar. “Do you want a drink?”
“Are you going to have one?”
He faced me again, his arms holding the counter behind him, which tightened his button-down against his—oh damn—chest. “Sadie, the only thing I’m drinking tonight is you.”
I smiled. “Sounds like you can’t get enough.”
“I’m sure you’ll be saying that to me again after I’ve tasted you.”
I pulled my hands up and crossed my arms. “Haven’t you already?”
“What happened in the car? That was just a tease.”
“Maybe for you.” I fanned my face.
“And for you.”
My fingers halted midair. “But I came.”
“It won’t even compare to the way I’ll make you feel with my tongue. Or my dick. You can have them both, or you can pick your poison. What do you want, Sadie?”
I shook my head. “The filthiest mouth I’ve ever heard.”
“A mouth you’re going to love.” When I didn’t respond, he added, “And a mouth you’re anxious to experience all over your body.” He nodded toward me. “Show me where you want it.”
