One Night of Scandal (After Hours #2)

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” he said angrily. “I’ve wanted you forever. Every goddamn time I see you, I’ve had to force myself not to blurt it out. I can barely even look at you, for chrissake, because I’m scared you’ll see it in my eyes. Is that what you want to hear?”


The confession sizzled through her body like merciless flames ravaging a dry forest. Her thighs clenched, breasts tingled, heart stopped. She wanted to dive through the curtain and pretend she’d never seen the raw lust in his eyes, never heard those gruff, honest words tumble out of his mouth.

But she was rooted in place.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, neither one speaking. Darcy had stopped breathing a while ago, and now her lungs burned, almost as painfully as the desire burning in her blood. Reed’s hand was still on her face, his calloused fingertips tracing the edge of her jaw. Her skin felt tight and prickly, the flames traveling south and tingling between her legs.

Reed’s blue eyes blazed with accusation. “Why are you still here?” he burst out. “Go, Darcy. Just go.”

“No,” she whispered.

He took another step closer, crowding her, his broad body dominating every inch of the tiny space. Their mouths were so close she could feel his warm breath fanning over her lips, mingling with the sudden rush of air that seeped out of her lungs.

“You have to go.”

She swallowed. “No.”

“This is wrong.” Half mumble, half moan. The anguish in his voice matching her own.

He cupped her cheeks with both hands, groaning when their eyes locked again. “Just once,” he muttered. “I just need to know.”

Her voice wobbled. “Know what?”

“What it would feel like.” A determined glint lit his gorgeous eyes. “Maybe it won’t be as good as I imagined.”

A laugh shook out. “It might be awful,” she said helpfully.

He groaned again. “Worse than awful.”

“We’ll probably hate it so much that—”

Reed’s mouth crashed down on hers before she could finish.

And there was nothing awful about it.

She moaned the moment their lips touched, but Reed swallowed the desperate sound with his mouth. His hands landed on her hips to pull her closer, and he didn’t even try to hide his erection. He simply thrust it against her pelvis and rotated his hips so she could feel every hard inch of him.

Darcy parted her lips, but his tongue didn’t seek entrance. His lips teased hers with soft, sweet kisses that made her head spin and her body ache. He didn’t seem interested in driving the kiss to a whole new level, and when she pressed her palms against his chest and felt the tension seizing his muscles, she realized he was purposely holding back.

With an agonized whimper, she sank her teeth into his lower lip, making her frustration clear. He cursed in pain, and she took advantage of his parted lips by slipping her tongue into his mouth.

It was all the impetus he needed. Gone were the feather-light kisses. Gone was the restraint. Darcy gasped as he devoured her like a starving man, his hungry tongue turning the kiss from exploratory to downright dominating.

“Oh God,” she moaned. “Don’t ever stop kissing me.”

Reed rumbled out a noise that was more animal than man, a deep growl that vibrated in her bones. There was something predatory about the way he backed her into the wall, his mouth glued to hers as he lifted one of her legs to his trim hips and ground his lower body against hers.

Darcy wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. Lord, what was happening to her? A tornado of sensation swirled through her body, traveling from erogenous zone to erogenous zone, eliciting shivers, tingles, a deep ache that made her clit swell. She’d never felt anything like it.

“Goddammit, Darcy,” he hissed out.

He rubbed up against her, each stroke of his impressive erection causing the seam of her jeans to press into her throbbing sex. The telltale signs of orgasm were already beginning to surface, startling the hell out of her. Holy shit. She might actually come. From dry humping.

The fact that there wasn’t even a door separating them from the masses in the club only thrilled her more. She felt hot and dizzy, helpless to control the unfamiliar sensations. The lightning bolts of lust, the painful throbbing of her clit.

What was this? How was this happening?

Reed’s tongue slicked over hers in another greedy kiss as he thrust against her, his hips pistoning erratically. The baseline pulsating in the club served as a soundtrack for their frenzied grinding, their greedy kisses, their desperate moans.

And that’s when it dawned on her. She knew what this was.

It was passion.

Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and lost herself in sensation. God, she wanted to come. She needed to come. Her hips rocked into Reed, frantically seeking relief.

But just as the pleasure mounted and her sex clenched in anticipation, the delicious friction disappeared.

In the blink of an eye, Reed had stopped moving, abruptly tearing his mouth from hers.

“No,” she cried out, agony ringing in her voice. “Please don’t stop.”