4

“Are you worried about it?” I challenged.

His eyes never left me. “Of course not.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

His restraint broke, and his mouth swooped down on mine like a

wolf descending on its prey. There was no foreplay. No sweet

seduction. Just hungry determination as he placed a hand at the

back of my head and attacked with fierce ardor. He was firm and

aggressive. He was skillful and demanding. He was in charge.

Silly, stupid, willing lamb that I was, I latched myself to him,

throwing my arms around his neck and licking at the greedy plunge

of his tongue between my lips. I wanted his taste of wine and

smoked bass to be my taste, to be the only taste I could remember. I

needed to drink him and devour him the way he seemed to need to

drink and devour me.

We were frenzied and sloppy, our teeth crashing against each

other at times, our breath coming in irregular measures. It felt as

though the whole of time had been reduced to this moment, the

entirety of the universe reduced to the three square inches that

belonged to his mouth, and even as existence was shrunk down to

this tiny form, there was nothing missing. Everything, everything I

could ever want or need or desire was found in the electric field of

this kiss.

Soon, I became aware of more, my attention spreading through

my body like heat with the sunrise. My breasts felt heavy and my

nipples tight. My belly swirled like a cyclone was tearing across its

insides. Lower, between my legs, my core throbbed and ached. I

was wet and empty, my thighs vibrating with need.

Desperate to ease the growing hum, to touch more of him and be

touched, I swung my leg over his lap to straddle him and gasped

when I landed on the steel ridge bulging from his pants. My hips

bucked automatically, pressing my pussy against the outline of his

cock. Again, again, needing to feel the exact shape of him, hoping to

still the buzz that only seemed to grow louder with each stroke.

It was humiliating how eager I was. How urgent. How impetuous.

How deeply romantic all of those things had suddenly become.

But then Dylan’s hands were under my skirt, his fingers digging

into my ass as he tilted my hips up along the length of him,

deepening the notch of his cock, and I realized he was just as eager.

Just as urgent. Just as impetuous.

And he knew what I needed. Knew exactly how to give it to me.

I felt myself get wetter. Felt him thicken against me. A frantic

mewling sounded in my ears, and it took me several seconds to

recognize it was coming from me. It was an entirely new and thrilling

experience. Our lips stayed locked as we grinded and humped, a

tight ball of tension growing deep in my belly. I’d never been so

intimate with someone during a first kiss let alone the first night we’d

met. Never felt so close to orgasm with all of my clothes still on.

Never been on the verge of begging for sex from a near stranger—

The sound of a throat clearing brought me tumbling out of

ecstasy.

Dylan broke his mouth from mine and peered around me. “Yes?”

The driver. Oh my God, I’d forgotten about our driver.

“This is the street,” the forgotten driver said. “There’s snow piled

up against the curb. I’ve driven down the entire block, and there isn’t

a spot that’s clear.”

Dylan turned his head to look out the window, verifying the

driver’s claim. “Circle around the block, and let her off at the corner

then,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

The rhythmic click-click of the turn signal filled the silence.

My cheeks felt hot as I forced myself to meet Dylan’s eyes. The

need and urgency from only a moment ago still screamed between

us, impossible to ignore even as my pulse began to settle.

Should I invite him up?

I wanted to.

But it was my sister’s apartment. And he was my sister’s boss,

and there seemed to be a dozen things wrong with that situation.

Would he invite me to his hotel?

Also improper for as many reasons, and I saw from his

expression that he’d gotten hold of himself enough to understand his

obligations.

I shouldn’t have felt so disappointed. I’d only meant for it to be a

kiss. A kiss to find out if what I’d been considering was really

something that might work.

Now I knew it could definitely work.

“You said I’d believe in kismet after that,” Dylan said. “Was

something supposed to happen?”

I could have smacked him. Trying to play like I’d had zero effect

on him when his cock was still as hard as stone underneath me.

Fortunately, I wasn’t that easily deterred. “Yes. Now you give me

your phone number.”

He only hesitated for a fraction of a second before pulling out his

cell phone and unlocking the screen. He handed it to me. “Text

yourself.”

I shivered. How could a person make something so innocent

sound so naughty?

Because he was experienced, that was how. Because he knew

things that I didn’t. Because he was The Professor.

I quickly shot myself a text from his phone then handed it back

just as the car came to a stop. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I said,

climbing off his lap.

And maybe because I’d moved too quickly, because I’d surprised

him, or because he was curious, or maybe because he was hard and

horny and not in his right mind, he didn’t argue about my parting

remark.

Instead he sat somewhat dazed as I slid across the backseat,

opened the door, and disappeared into the night. I was dazed too,

but I’d never been more confident in myself.THREE

DYLAN

I STARED AFTER AUDREY, dumbfounded, as she walked to her

building. My lips still burned from our kiss. My cock still ached and

throbbed from her grinding on my lap. And I, like a fool, clung to her

final words, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Fuck, how I wanted her to ring me. Wanted it like a teenage boy

waited by his phone for the call from the pretty girl. The idea of it

made me nervous and excited and...stupid.

That’s what I was. Stupid.

Because even if she did ring me, there was no way I could accept

her call, except to tell her that I was sorry for the egregious way I’d

acted in the car.

Yet I wasn’t sorry. Not truly. Not at all.

“Fantastic,” my driver said dreamily, breaking my stupor.

I looked forward to find him also staring after Audrey.

Irritated, I scolded him. “What are you looking at?” He was even

older than I was. It was inappropriate for me to be eyeing her. It was

disgusting that he was. How I could feel both a fatherly protection

and an indecent attraction to the girl, I had no idea.

That was a therapy session for another day.

“To the hotel, sir?” he said, moving his eyes back to the road

where they belonged.

I didn’t answer right away, staring at the mobile still in my hand.

I’d had no texts from my son. When I’d seen him at lunch, I’d

suggested we go out for a late movie tonight. He’d said he’d get

back to me. I’d felt the sting of rejection, but he was thirteen now—

independent and awkward. Moody, too. Even though I traveled

across the ocean to see him, he wavered these days from wanting to

see his dad and wanting to spend all his free time with his friends. I

remembered this age. Remembered parenting this age. My

stepdaughter, Amanda, had been thirteen when I’d married her

mother. I’d done this teenager thing before.

So I understood.

We were at a delicate phase, Aaron and I, and I knew it. I didn’t

want to press, wanted him to reach out to me if he wanted to spend

the evening in my presence. I’d known somewhere inside of me that

I would be blown off. I wouldn’t have gotten inebriated if I’d expected

otherwise.