Page 9 of One Night With My Grumpy Professor Daddy

“Why’d you push me?” My tall, dark company asks from underneath me. I feel the rumble of his voice reverberates through me. I stop laughing and look at him under the moonlight—I can make out some of his chiseled features and salt-and-pepper dark hair. His face is so close to mine —his breath fans my forehead. He’s truly a gorgeous man.

“Do you always dance with random strangers, then shove them to the ground?”

“You needed to lighten up. You were doing so well while we were dancing, then you got serious again.”

“Is that how you saw it?” I try to stand, but somehow, I just end up doing a weird wiggle-shuffle on his body. And I feel his hardness pressing against me.

Oh my.

He shakes his head, and for some reason, that makes me want to push his buttons even more. I wiggle again. But it feels more like a slow grind.

“Stop.” His voice now thick. He looks at me. There’s a spark, so instant, so undeniable, so unbelievably raw, and real that for a second, I can’t breathe. And with the way his dark eyes catch mine, I know he feels it, too.

“What is it about you?” His breath travels along my skin, giving me chills all over. And I can’t help but show I’m feeling the same.

I flirt back, “What is it about you?” The heat of desire rushes through me so intensely that my surroundings blur, and my head spins. Before I can stop myself, I lean into the curve of his neck. He smells amazing! Something about this man has me dizzy.

“Maybe I’m a little buzzed,” I whisper. That’s the only explanation for why I feel so lightheaded.

“Oh, really, do you want me to stop? Maybe I should get you inside? His arms slacken as our gaze locks, and as though he’s fighting himself, he tightens his grasp around my waist. How much did you have to drink?” he asks after a while. The sound of his voice rumbles through me and shoots between my legs. I don’t know if it’s the feel of his skin on mine, his breath against my neck, or my nipples pressed against his hard body, but hot damn, I’m ready to let go all over this man. I shake my head. “I’m not drunk.” Maybe on desire, but definitely not on alcohol.

“Can you stand?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

Because I want to kiss you so much right now that I feel like I might pass out.

I think the words, but nothing comes out of my mouth. I raise my head to look at him, my eyes swing to his lips, wondering what they’ll feel like on mine.

Soft and sweet?

Hard and insistent?

How would his lips feel on other parts of my body? His breathing becomes ragged. And I can tell he feels this, too. Our hunger grows hotter with each second.

“You’re spectacular,” he says against my lips. His soft breath sends warmth around me.

I wiggle-shuffle again, and this time the slight friction catches my clit just right, and it feels so good. Deciding I’ve had enough of these small teasing touches, my hands travel from where they’re wrapped around his neck down to his firm chest.

Even though I should stop, I sneak lower, my breast pressing harder into him as my core presses against his hard bulge. His hand rests on my thigh and starts moving higher before he stiffens. I can tell through the low groan he releases that he’s fighting himself for control.

“You can shut it out, you know?”

“What?”

“The voice in your head that keeps you from making any bad decisions.” I raise my brow assuredly, at least for a few minutes or however long you can last.”

“How?” he asks, catching me off guard and adding fuel to the fire between my legs. Granting more permission, I place my hand over his, moving it higher on my thigh.

His eyes don’t leave mine as I bring his hand to my center. The sounds of the waves crash between breaths as unbreaking eye contact has me even more turned on.

“Like this,” I say, and do what’s been on my mind all night.

Sliding up his rock-hard body, I bring my lips to his, a soft moan escaping my throat as our lips intertwine. In a matter of seconds, the kiss goes from soft and unsure to hungry and urgent.

Our sounds escape us in a sweet melody as he kisses me like his life depends on it, and I kiss back with as much intensity. My hands slip under his shirt, feverishly exploring the curves of his back.

---