Page 53 of Miss Matched

Zac

Mylastlineof defense shatters the moment Kennedy’s lips crash against mine.

“Yes,” she moans into my mouth, and it’s the final strike of the match that sets my entire body on fire.

Her thighs tighten around my hips as I grind my erection against the thin fabric of her pajama bottoms. I’m greeted by the heat pulsing from her center, our bodies fighting to be closer. Tongues collide with teeth in a wild attempt to become one.

I strip off her sweater, and it feels like a part of her mask slips away with the fabric. The brassy-tongued, strong-willed woman softens against my body. She leans back as I press my hips against her. Her eyelashes flutter with each pulse, pleasure flushing her face, revealing everything unsaid between us.

Hunger.

Desire.

Longing.

It’s terrifying, holding this spirited woman in my arms and feeling the pain in her kiss. There’s a frantic edge of comfort and impulse as the night catches up with us. I’m desperate to give her what she needs: a bed to sleep in, a night she won’t need to be alone, a body to satisfy her. I’d give her everything, my money, my heart. Even knowing she doesn’t want it.

Her fingers dig into my shoulders like bites on my skin, and in this moment I embrace the growling in the pit of my stomach, the one that urges me to unleash the fantasy that sparked the moment I first laid eyes on Kennedy in that red dress.

Having her, claiming her, taking her.

My Cupid.

Kennedy slides her hands up the hem of my shirt, and her fingernails rake against ripples of muscle as she peels it off and tosses it across the room. Her eyes meet mine, glistening with an uninhibited want that’s capable of bringing me to my knees.

I wrap my hands around her waist to pull her in, but she pauses us with a finger over my lips. Hers are panting inches from my mouth.

“Just for tonight,” she says with an edge in her tone. Her eyes hold a warning. They’re gray and glossy with lust, with the slightest tinge of fear beneath them.

It breaks the spell for a moment because I’m not sure one night will answer to the constant aching. I’m not sure how many nights would. The warmth of her body and the familiarity of her heartbeat drag me under.

Her hips rotate in my lap as she grips the mounds of my shoulders and pulls me back in, and I know I’ll agree to anything she wants if it means she’ll stay in this moment. If it means I might give her something that will make her want more.

“Tonight,” I agree, reluctantly, “if you think that’ll be enough.”

I pull Kennedy in, and her mouth melts onto mine, smiling against my teeth before she sinks hers into my bottom lip.

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” she teases.

I run my tongue against the crease in her lip, and she opens for me, tasting like soda, cinnamon, and every dark desire I’ve ever had. Skimming her hands between us, she slips one down the front of my sweatpants and wraps her fingers around my solid length, squeezing tight.

Fuck.

If I don’t take back control, I might accidentally come in her hand.

I grab onto her ass and stand in a move that pulls an excited shriek from her lips. Her arms wrap around my neck as I carry her across the room.

Just for tonight.

The words echo against the hollow of my chest. One night will never be enough. Once I have a taste, I’ll need another. If she’s going to hold me to her limits, I’ll spend all evening claiming every inch of her body.

I walk her toward the windows and plant her ass onto the cold surface of my piano, nudging her legs apart with my hips as she rests her hands behind her and tips away, giving me a clear view of her body stretched out before me. A sexy, confident grin stretches her cheeks, and even with my feet planted firmly on the ground, I’m lost. My is heart pounding, my lungs fighting for air.

“What do you have planned for me, Mr. Vincent?”

She’s a goddess with the city lights sparkling through the wall of windows behind her. She’s still fully clothed, yet open and exposed in every way that counts.

“Everything,” I say. I lift her hips up just far enough to slip my thumbs into the band of her pajama bottoms and drag them down her long legs. Her now-bare ass slaps against the top of the piano as she drops back down onto it.

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