Page 54 of Fangirl Down

“Didn’t expect me to send you pictures of my juicy ass, did you?”

Her laugh sounded more like a gasp. He knew exactly what she’d been doing when he arrived, the big jerk. Why was it so attractive that he’d said nothing until now? “Shut up.”

The knuckles brushing her jaw firmed and there was no mistaking the hunger bracketing his mouth, his eyes. “Make me, belle.”

A moan issued from the television. Maybe. It could have been inside her head or out loud, too, because God, she wanted to be kissed. Hard. Messy. Frantic. She was a bundle of concentrated nerves that were asking for appeasement. Friction. The touch of another person. And not just any person. Wells. “Just so we’re clear, you want me to...”

“Make the first move and I’ll take over.” Their mouths weretouching now, lips damp from their mutual heavy breathing. “Or tell me to leave. And I will. But I need you to know there’s no pressure, Josephine. You kick me out and you’re still my caddie tomorrow and nothing changes. Not a damn thing. Understand?”

Had Josephine ever met someone who made her feel such a variety of emotions? Frustration, gratitude, belonging, anger... lust. “I understand,” she said, sighing when his thumb traced the hollow of her throat, those glittering eyes studying her mouth like he was forming a strategy. “What happens after you take over?”

His chest vibrated, his mouth traveling along her cheek to rest against her ear. “After we’re done kissing, you mean? Don’t you dare skip past that. Finally going to get that taste I’ve been dreaming about.”

“You’ve been wanting to kiss me? You’re not even nice to me.”

“You say that with a straight face from inside the presidential suite, belle?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I already called ahead to the next place to make sure your room has the biggest bathtub—”

She kissed him.

A firm acquainting of lips that turned into three, four, smaller kisses. Like sampling each other and loving every taste even more than the last. Was that her imagination or could she hear his heart booming? Leaning into the kiss, she flattened her left palm on his chest and found the racing organ beating triple time andthatturned her on more than anything. Proof that beneath his often jerk-like exterior was vulnerability. Need that matched hers.

They were kissing. Making out.

She was making out with Wells Whitaker.

Her boss.

But he wasn’t really any of those things to her now. Not aftergetting to know him better. Now he was just Wells, her infuriating teammate who was also thoughtful and jaded and protective and hot-tempered and sexy. And he kissed like he wouldn’t mind either of them running out of oxygen. He kissed her like she was a meal and he wanted to memorize every single flavor on his palate.

“I take over now, Josephine,” he rasped, kissing her thoroughly. “You want it like that?”

Her answer was fervent and clear. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He trapped Josephine’s waist in his hands and turned her in his lap to face the television, which she could barely see now that she’d entered some sort of lust fog. “Lean back against me. I’m going to open this robe like a fucking Christmas present.”

In the past, when it had come time to take off her clothes in front of a man, there was always a layer of self-consciousness. Wondering what they were thinking, not just about her body in general, but also the small gray circle on the back of her arm. There were none of those thoughts when Wells untied her robe with shaking hands and peeled it open, painting her nude body in the muted television light. God. She was hot. An inexcusable temptation. His rough groan told her so, along with the thick bulge beneath her butt.

She could feel him looking over her shoulder down the length of her body, could hear his breath growing thin in her ear, his hips pulsing upward slightly, grinding against her bottom, as if the moves were involuntary. Necessary.

“You let me into your room with no panties on?”

“I didn’t think you would find out.”

“Thank you, God, for Josephine’s inappropriate movie selection.” Her laugh turned into a whimper when he suctioned his mouth to the side of her neck, yanking the robe open wider, hisfingertips dragging slowly up the sides of her rib cage. “You need me to be nice? I’ll be the nicest person you ever met. Just to you. Only you. JesusChrist, you’re so beautiful.”

That’s how she felt. Totally and authentically.

Lusted after. Safe. Free to abandon any and all constraints.

Needy and daring all at once, she spread her legs into a V, draping them over Wells’s hard thighs, encouraged by the groan that gathered in his chest.

“Fuck yes, belle. Is that an invitation to pet it?”

She let her head fall back against his shoulder and nodded. Ready to feel.Dyingfor it.

Not that he gave it to her right away. Wells took his sweet time, turning his head and licking into her mouth, luxuriating in every kiss. His palms scraped up and over her breasts, cupping them gently at first, the massage growing rougher and more adept with every slow, reverent squeeze of his hands.

“Were you rubbing yourself out when I interrupted? Were you on your tiptoes bent over the bathroom counter so you could look at my picture, fingers all slippery on your clit?”

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