Page 33 of Forbidden

I take a step backwards, exhaling when my back hits the wall, but he knows I’m not trying to get away from him. How can I fear the hunger in his eyes when it mirrors my own?

“You should,” I say, my gaze fixing on his mouth. “It was pretty damn good.”

He takes another small step closer. “Oh? What did I do?”

My body trembles at the memory. “We were dancing, and you kissed me here.” I tilt my head, exposing my neck and pointing to where I can still feel the ghost of that first searing touch of his lips.

“Here?” Doug reaches out and lightly touches the spot. “Then what?”

I swallow as he closes the space between us, placing a hand on the wall above my head. “You kissed me.”

He dips his head so we’re only a breath apart and I look up at him, my body pulling toward his like a flower does the sun. If he’s teasing me . . . If he turns and walks away to his room . . . I reach out and place a hand on his chest, my fingers gently gripping the soft material of his sweater, so he knows I’m not pushing him away. I can’t push him away.

His indecision is heavy between us. Kissing me in the club when he was halfway to wasted is one thing, but this, despite a couple of glasses of wine, is a conscious decision to cross that line. It’s selfish of me to want this, I know that. If anyone found out, he could lose his job. But then, everyone thinks he’s fucking students anyway, so . . .

Doug leans closer, his thighs and hips pressing against mine until our mouths are the last missing connection. My fingers tighten their grip on his sweater, and he flexes his hips, just enough for me to feel how hard he is, and the full force of my want hits me. A kiss won’t be enough. I need more. I want to feel him on me. In me.

A breathy moan escapes my lips before I can stop it, but Doug catches it with his own.

His hand slides up my neck, angling my head as he deepens the kiss, his tongue claiming my mouth with the same confident possession as the club. He tastes of red wine and pleasure. I’ve thought about this kiss. A lot. It’s better than I remember and my body aches for him.

My hand relaxes its grip on him, trailing down his chest until I reach his jeans. When my fingers sneak up under his sweater to touch his skin, he grunts against my mouth, pressing harder against me. Somewhere, someone laughs loudly, and we break apart, breathing hard.

The panic in my eyes has nothing to do with being caught and everything to do with this stopping. Before either of us can come to our senses, I fish my room key from my pocket and unlock the door beside us. Doug stays where he is, his eyes wild, but I reach out and grip the hem of his sweater, tugging him toward me. When he follows without resistance, I exhale in relief.

As soon as the door closes behind us, it’s as though a barrier has been lifted. Doug shrugs off his jacket, stalking toward me. Just as my own jacket drops to the floor he stoops, gripping my thighs and lifting me. I wrap my legs around him as our mouths find each other again. The curtains are still open from check in, the city lights illuminating the room in whites, blues and yellows, and the noise from the street a steady, muted constant.

Doug walks us toward the bed, placing me down before crawling over me. I waste no time, tugging at his sweater and he smirks as he reaches up and pulls it off.Fuck.He’s simultaneously everything I imagined and also nothing like it at all. His body is ripped, but unlike the hairless competing swimmers, trimmed dark hair covers his chest, fading away over his abs and picking up again in a neat happy trail leading beneath his dark blue jeans.

My fingers move to the button, but he moves out of my reach. “Your turn, Minx.”

I stare at him in confusion until he tugs at the hem of my shirt.Oh. Arching my body, I pull my shirt off, dropping it over the side of the bed to the floor.

Doug stares at my black lace bra, his jaw clenched. I’ve never been on the receiving end of such fierce desire before. Such heat.

The longing to be touched—for more—builds until a whimpered plea falls from my lips. “Doug . . .”

His eyes snap to mine, and I suck in a breath as his fingers trace the exposed skin of my breasts before dipping below the lace. I push my head into the pillows as he tugs the cup down and sucks a nipple into the heat of his mouth, his tongue flicking the sensitive nub.

My fingers delve into his hair, gripping as he teases with his tongue and teeth, but I still want more, and I push him gently.

He looks up at me, tugging my nipple between his teeth as he grins. “Naughty minx. You want my mouth somewhere else, don’t you?”

My skin heats, but I nod. His grin is wolfish as he flicks open the buttons on my jeans and tugs them down, taking my underwear with them. He slides off the bed, pulling off my boots, and they drop to the ground with a thud, my jeans following seconds after.

Doug licks his lips, shedding the rest of his clothes and I shift up onto my elbows, watching hungrily as his cock springs free. Having never seen him in the pool, I had no idea what he was packing, and I’m not mad about what I’m seeing. It’s not the longest dick I’ve seen, but he’s thick and heavy in a way that has me pressing my thighs together in anticipation.

Kicking out of his shoes, he gives his cock two long strokes before kneeling back up on the bed. I barely have time to register what’s happening before he bends my knees, pushing them apart. Then his mouth is on me.

He doesn’t start slow, he dives in, parting me with his tongue, devouring me. I cry out and he pauses, trailing nips and kisses along my inner thigh.

“You can’t be making noises like that, Minx. Someone will hear.”

I mime zipping my lips and Doug chuckles softly, his breath tickling my skin. As his mouth resumes its delicious torment, his words circle in my head.Someone will hear. Someone like Aldo. Or Lane.

Doug circles my clit with his tongue as he pushes a finger inside and I arch against the pillow, my fingers gripping the comforter.

I told Aldo I didn’t want a relationship and I meant it. We’ve been spending a lot of time together and I wouldn’t mind if things got physical between us, but I can’t handle more than that. Would he care if he found out I’d done this? Maybe not. Lane would. I think. But I’m not his concern. I haven’t been his for four years.

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