Page 71 of The Bad Wedding Date

“You think highly of me, considering we’ve only known each other for a day.”

“You’d be surprised what can happen in a day.”

“Youdolisten.” I smiled.

“Sometimes I feign ignorance so I can use it to my advantage.”

“Hmm. I could use someone like you on my team. Interested?”

“I’m interested,” she said, bringing her arms up around my neck and holding on tight. “But we may have to discuss the position.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Something that requires you having to finally kiss me.”

My smile fell, and I stared into her eyes, searching them for a sign of her being confused or unsure, but all that stared back at me was an almost frightening boldness to her true desires. She was a woman who knew what she wanted, staring into the eyes of the man who wanted her, too. Those eyes twinkled, and the blush on her cheeks seemed different now—one born from desire rather than embarrassment or fear.

“Charlotte, if I kiss you, it changes everything. Are you sure?”

“Sure, and officially desperate for it.”

“Fine.” I slid my free arm under her lower back, making her arch into me as I pressed my body down until we were chest to chest, my lips hovering over hers as I whispered, “You want it. Come get it.”

She smiled at me for just a second before her warm lips found mine, the soft, plumpness of them basking me in a sensation I hadn’t felt in so fucking long. The connection was natural, like we’d done this a thousand times before as I moaned against her, enjoying the way the blood rushed to my dick and my head filled with a beautiful fog I was willing to choke on.

God, she smelt amazing, and she tasted even better. So sweet. So addictive.

My tongue massaged hers slowly, taking it all in to commit to memory for life as the time I kissed a beautiful woman while the London sun poured through her blinds and covered us in warmth on her white bedsheets.

Her arms tightened around my neck, her fingers tugging on the ends of my hair, sure to drive me mad. I pressed harder against her until I pushed us both up against the pillows, growling with quiet desperation to get even closer to her, to be inside her and...

Her phone rang.

“Ignore it,” I panted, and like a good girl, she did, offering me a hum of agreement and leaving me to get lost in the taste of her as I ground my erection against her body, unable to stop myself now her permission had been granted.

“Fraser…” she rasped with want.

“I know.”

And I did. I knew. I felt it, too. This weird sensation rolling over both of us that told us we were exactly where we were always meant to be.

“Fuck, I know,” I breathed, unable to stop myself from sounding exactly how I felt: needy. Desperate. On fire. And this was just a kiss.

The thought of fucking her made every vein in my body throb.

Then her phone rang again, and Charlotte sighed against me in defeat, breaking the moment as she put her forehead to mine and closed her eyes. “No one ever rings twice unless it’s important.”

The phone rang out, only to start up again for a third time, and even I had to concede at that point. With a begrudging growl of frustration, I pulled away and moved to the edge of the bed, pressing my head into my hands and willing my dick to behave as she answered the call behind me.

I had no idea what the hell was happening, only that all sense of clarity had gone and been replaced with that Charlotte-induced fog that made it impossible for me to try and reach out to grab a coherent thought. The only images in my mind were of her and I, lost together in a naked fantasy of tangled limbs and hot kisses on every inch of her skin.

Not even Wade’s warnings from yesterday stopped the images.

Don’t fuck her.

Don’t fuck her.

Don’t fuck her.

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