Page 122 of Mr. Not Quite Perfect

But could I admit that to him? I didn’t want him to think he had me like putty in his hands. I didn’t want him to think that he could control me or manipulate me. That was what happened a lot of times when men knew the true depth of your feelings.

“Of course not,” I said quickly and laughed. “I am not a romantic, sentimental fool.”

“Okay, then,” he said. There was a slight look of disappointment in his eyes, and he blinked for a couple of seconds. I felt his hand on my stomach, moving up under the silk of my top.

“I knew when I first saw you that I wanted to undress you,” he said softly, his fingers pulling out the material and pushing it up until my stomach was bare for him. “I knew that I wanted to kiss you like this.” He pressed his lips against my stomach. And he said, looking up into my eyes, “I knew I wanted to make you mine.”

“And what does that mean?” I said breathlessly, my heart racing, my every nerve standing to attention.

“It meant that I wanted to consume you. I wanted to own you.”

“Really?” I said. “And how would that make you feel if I said that I wanted to consume you and own you?”

“You don’t have to say it. You know that, right, Molly?”

“What do you mean?”

“You do own me. You own my body, you own—”

“I don’t own your heart.” I cut him off, staring at him.

“I don’t know that I have a heart,” he said, laughing bitterly.

“Why do you say that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe so many people have told me that. And maybe because in business you don’t get ahead when you have a heart. You don’t get ahead when you feel for people and make decisions based upon emotions.”

“But business isn’t personal. Isn’t that why we separated the two in our original arrangements?”

He nodded slightly. “True. But I don’t know that I know what it is to truly and deeply love and put someone else before myself.”

“Have you ever wondered?” I asked him, curious if that was something he wanted in his life or something he didn’t really care about.

“Not really,” he said, shaking his head. “Not until now.”

He pulled my top off and threw it to the floor. I watched as he surveyed my naked breasts; his fingers reached down and lightly played with my nipples. He reached down and kissed the valley between my breasts before moving over to one of my nipples and sucking softly. I moaned as the intensity of his lips on my skin made me feel wet between the legs.

“I just know that I want to make you happy and that I want to pleasure you,” he said, kissing up to my lips. His hands cradled my head, and he played with my hair. He stared into my eyes before kissing me passionately again. “I just know that I want to…”

He paused. I felt his right hand sliding down into my pants, his fingers finding that spot between my legs that erupted in heat as soon as he touched me.

“You wanted to what?” I said, wanting him to make me come.

“I knew I wanted to look into your eyes when you orgasmed. I wanted to see exactly that moment when everything in your body changed.”

“Changed into what?” I gasped as his thumb brushed against my clit, and he slid a finger inside me.

“I wanted to see the moment ecstasy took over your body, and all you wanted was me. All you could think about was me. Tell me, Molly, tell me now.”

“Tell you what?” I asked, clutching the sheets.

“Tell me that you want me.”

“I want you. I need you. Please, Travis,” I moaned as he pulled a finger out of me and pulled my pajama bottoms down.

I watched as he quickly disrobed and was naked and on top of me. He grabbed my legs and pushed them over his shoulder.And then I felt his tip next to me, grazing up and down, teasing me.

He leaned down and kissed me again and groaned as he thrust into me hard and fast. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he said. “You’re so hot and tight and… Oh, I might not wake up again tomorrow, and I wouldn’t care.”

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