Page 151 of Champagne Fizz

Obviously, swearing at someone when they say the L-word is bad tact—especially when you’re the kind of person who never curses.

“No, no, no,” I say quickly, because I can see Simon starting to retreat. “I’m not saying fuck because of what you said.”

“Oh?”

“It’s because I’m a damn idiot.”

“Kendall, the last thing you are is a—”

But I’m walking forward and ignoring his words. I’m snaking my hands up his blue suit and behind his head. I’m pressing this sinful yellow dress against him.

“Kendall—?”

I kiss him.

Simon trembles, his breath a gasp as our mouths crush together. There’s resistance in him because he’s afraid of what he might do if he gives into this temptation, and I’m the yellow snake offering him sin instead of salvation.

Warmth spreads through my skin as I open my mouth to deepen the kiss. Everything about this feels right and it scares me witless.

“Kendall? We—” Simon comes up for air, breathing heavily against my lips, his hands finding my waist and branding me with the Midas touch of how thin this dress is. His tongue finds mine and I moan, lost in how wicked he tastes and how perfect my body feels pressed against him.

“We can’t—we shouldn’t—” he mutters between sweeps of my lips, his hands doing the opposite as they slide over my ass.

Dang, this is a hot dress!

“I know you want to touch me,” I say, nibbling his jaw, my hands digging into his shoulders.

“I always want to touch you,” he admits, letting me trail kisses down his throat as his hands massage my backside, making me moan. “But Kendall, we can’t start this again, you know—”

“I know you gave me the dress because you wanted to touch me in it,” I point out—and he is.

“Yes, but—” He kisses me deeper.

It’s like his brain is saying one thing, but his body another. I know that feeling all too well. The disconnect between what my brain fears and what my body desires is a tightrope I can’t seem to master. And when I’m around Simon, all I want is to let go.

Reading my mind, Simon lifts up one of my thighs and hooks it over his hip. I mew as I find myself posed on one leg in one precarious high heel like a flamingo, all of my weight pressed against him. This feels different with weight and gravity between us. It feels heavier and more intense than when we were in the water, and maybe that’s because we both know we want it.

“You’re addictive,” Simon whispers, still wearing his glasses as he kisses me, still fully clothed in that blue suit as he slides his hand beneath the dress to stroke the underside of my raised thigh.

“Oh—okay!” I gasp, my core aching at his proximity. Lady Lada is begging for him to forget the pretense and take control.

“Kendall, if we start this—” Simon warns, everything he’s saying is the opposite of what his hands and mouth are doing.

“We’ve already started this,” I reply, hooking my leg around his back and pushing him closer. His fingers brush the edge of my panties and we both shudder.

My chest heaves, I’m so turned on, and Lady Lada’s soaked. Simon need only adjust his fingers slightly and he’ll feel my arousal.

“I know you’re about to come,” Simon says in a voice that’s stating a fact and not asking a question. His tone is so gruff and hot, I think he’s intoxicated by the idea of it. I know I am. “But I’m going to want more,” he threatens. “Kendall, you need to stop me right now, because the second I touch your pussy, I’m not going to be the nice guy you deserve.”

“I have a solution for that,” I say boldly, and he pulls back to look at me, his skin flushed and his eyes unsure.

“Kendall, I want to,” he gulps, looking at the locked door of his office. “But you’ll never forgive me if I take your virginity in this officeduring the wedding.”

I almost laugh. “Good,” I say, “because that’s not what I was offering.”

I lift my hips, causing his fingers to graze the fabric of my panties. Even over the fabric it feels insane. I moan in heat as I press myself harder against him.

“You say one thing Kendall,” he growls. “But then you do—”

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