Page 28 of The Rules of Their Red-Hot Reunion

CHAPTER SEVEN

PASCOPARKEDHIScar in one of the four bays in his garage and led her from the garage to his front door. Aisha quickened her pace to keep up with him, laughing when he fumbled the inputting of the code to open his eight-foot-high front door. He cursed, slowed down, and jabbed at the buttons again and the door clicked open. Pasco pushed her ahead of him, kicked the door shut with his foot, and then the hall lights came on, illuminating his tense face.

Instead of reaching for her, he pushed his hand into his trouser pockets and stared at her, his eyes darting from her mouth to her eyes and back again. A muscle ticced in his jaw and she could see the tension in his wide shoulders, in the way he held his big body.

Why was he just standing there, looking at her? Why wasn’t he doing anything? If he didn’t kiss her soon, she might lose her nerve...

She rubbed her hand down her hip, suddenly nervous. ‘Why are you just standing there?’

‘Back then, it was normally me,alwaysme, who initiated lovemaking. You, going for what you want, is a hell of a turn-on. I want you so damn much.’

Great, lovely, she was happy to hear it, but could they get on with it? Aisha stepped forward but stopped when he held up his hand. She raised her eyebrows at him, impatient.

Hesitation flickered in his eyes. ‘Are you completely sure?’ he asked. ‘Because, if we start, I’m not backing off.’

Now that was nonsense, she knew that, no matter how far they went, she could call a halt to what they were doing, and he’d stop.

Though the chances of her doing that were honestly less than zero. She wanted him now, tonight. She didn’t know if it was a good idea or whether she’d regret this in the morning, but she didn’t care. For once she was going to seize the moment, go with the flow, carpe-the-hell-diem.

‘Aish—’

Hesitation still lurked in his eyes—did he think they were crossing too big a line here?—but honestly, she was past caring. ‘Shut up, Pas.’

Pasco’s eyes didn’t leave hers as she stepped towards him to slide her hand under his jacket, above his heart. It was thudding hard, another sign of how much he wanted her, wanted this. She ran her hand down his shirt, marvelling at the muscles under his shirt, the heat radiating off him.

He stayed statue still as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders, allowing it to drop to the slate floor beneath her feet. She had a brief thought that she wanted to see his house, explore his home, but that could come later. She had more important things to do with her time right now.

Aisha looked up at him and stood on her tiptoes to skim her mouth across his before dropping back down to pull his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. Torturing them both, she slowly undid the buttons of his shirt and pushed it apart, placing her mouth on his skin, tasting him. Her hands moved up his chest, over his shoulders as she kissed his flat nipple and dragged her nose through his light chest hair. His arms were big, bulging with muscles as she pulled one hand from his pocket, then the other.

He kept them by his sides as her fingers moved to his belt buckle. She glanced up and the intensity in his moss-green eyes sent a bolt of electricity through her, igniting every nerve ending she possessed.

‘Touch me, Pas, I need you to,’ Aisha said, lifting her hand to touch his jaw.

Her command—or was it a plea?—released him from his self-imposed stance and his arm encircled her waist and yanked her into him. He bent his knees and took her mouth in a hard kiss that was just this side of savage.

Aisha loved it, loved the need she tasted on his tongue. He wanted her as much as she did him and the thought made her head spin.

With her mouth under his, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, laughing when it hooked on his wrists. Pasco cursed, and ripped his cuffs apart, and buttons pinged across the hall floor. When he was free, he took her mouth again and hiked her long dress up, releasing a groan of appreciation when his hand encircled the top of her thigh.

He pulled away and buried his face in her neck. ‘You taste, feel, so good.’

Aisha arched her neck as his mouth moved down her throat and her chest, and she held her breath as he nuzzled her nipple through her dress and bra. Frustrated with the barriers between them, she quickly undid her belt and, grabbing the edges of her dress, pulled it up and over her head and dropped it. She stood in his hallway in her skimpy black panties and lacy transparent bra and watched Pasco’s eyes darken. He slowly, far too slowly, pulled the edge of one lacy bra cup aside and stared at her nipple, before bending his knees to take her into his mouth. She whimpered and combed her fingers through his hair, arching her back to encourage him to take more, do more.

Pasco straightened and pressed his thumb into her bottom lip. ‘Bedroom, now.’

She couldn’t wait that long. ‘Here, now.’

‘You’re sure?’ Pasco asked her. ‘If we stay here, it’s going to be hard. And fast. And it’ll be up against the wall.’

She nodded; that was what she wanted this first time again with him. Hot and fast and wild. Out of control. ‘Works for me.’

Pasco nodded and reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. He yanked out cards and cash, plastic and notes falling to the floor as he searched for a condom. He pulled one out, dropped the leather wallet, and reached for her, sliding his hands down the back of her panties.

His kiss was all-consuming, limitless, and Aisha pushed her hands between them to undo his belt, then his zip. She pushed her hands inside and there he was, hot and oh-so-hard. So very Pasco.

From there on, time stood still as hands streaked over flesh, mouths followed. They didn’t take the time to undress fully, her panties were pushed aside, his trousers fell halfway down his hips, just enough for him to move. Aisha slid the condom over his long length and a second after she was done, Pasco grabbed the backs of her legs, ordered her to wrap her legs around his, and slid into her in one fluid, fantastic, soul-touching stroke.

He groaned and leaned her back against the nearest wall, his forehead on hers, his face a mask of concentration.

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