Page 69 of A Ticking Time Boss

It’s a long few seconds before I can form words. “Mhm,” I say. “Redeeming feature.”

His mouth returns to mine. “No,” he says against my lips. “I told you, it’s the tenant.”

“You’re biased,” I tell him.

“And proud of it.”

We kiss for a long time, and with every delicious touch I feel myself sinking deeper into lust with him. My mind feels heady, almost drugged, joy flooding through me.

Skilled fingers find the waist tie to my coat and tug. He slides a hand inside, touching my waist through the thin fabric of my dress. A frisson of nerves run through me, just faint enough to heighten the anticipation. But the hand stays there.

“You know,” I murmur. “The fire escape is nice and all, but we can also go inside.”

He closes his eyes. Dark lashes fan out against his cheeks, flushed with color. “Dangerous idea,” he says. “I’m trying to behave.”

“You can’t behave inside?”

“It would be harder to. I’m not domesticated.”

I press my lips to his cheekbone. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“It’s our first date,” he says, “and I’m angling for a second.”

I climb onto his lap. He lets me, hands steadying my hips inside my coat. I settle a thigh on either side of him and grip the railing behind him. “What if I told you that a second date is already guaranteed?”

“Then I’m a lucky man indeed,” he says and draws me up for a kiss. I press my chest against his and when he groans, I feel it reverberating through his chest. We spend another eternity kissing.

Eventually he breaks away from my lips and leans his head back against the cold railing, closing his eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters.

I run my fingers inside the collar of his shirt, touching hot skin. “Did I break you?”

“Yes. I’ll reboot in a second.”

I shift in his lap and notice the long, hard length beneath my thighs. Once I’ve felt it, it’s all I can focus on. Red-hot nerves race through my body and leave me breathless.

I circle my hips once, tentatively.

His hands tighten on my hips. “Kid,” he warns.

“Let’s go inside.”

“I could kiss you forever,” he says. “Would be happy to.”

I lean back in his arms. “Don’t you want to?”

He chuckles darkly and looks down at me straddling him. “Clearly. But I remember what you told me the other day. About you and relationships.”

And my lack of them. I tighten my hands around his neck. “I’ve had sex before. Been intimate with men.”

“I know,” he says. “But not very often, I’m guessing.”

I shake my head. “Why are we talking about this?”

He smiles and kisses me, three urgent brushes of his lips. “Because I don’t want to rush you. At all. Ever. And because you have me wound so tightly that I’m not sure I can go as slow as I’d want to for our first time.”

“I don’t feel rushed.”

He grips my thighs and pulls me up against him, melding our bodies together. His erection is a rough, intractable object beneath me, making it hard to think. “When was the last time?” he asks me.

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