"And I want you now. I’ve never wanted a woman so much, and it drives me fucking insane that it’s you. I keep telling myself that it will pass, that all I need is another distraction. Then you do or say something that tests me and it’s like I’m eighteen again, back in that fucking classroom, wishing you’d hurry past me because the sight of you got my cock rock hard.”
Sweet baby Jesus, why is he telling me this? Of all the things for him to say, why would he reveal that he’s been attracted to me for at least eleven years? I grip my collar and hesitantly move closer to him. "So … what are we going to do about it?”
Because we’ve reached the point where nothing is doing more harm than good.
Clenching his jaw, he raps his fingertips anxiously on the steering wheel. Each tap speeds up my pulse, my heartbeat, until I’m on the verge of exploding. “I want to say we won’t do a goddamn thing,” he says at last, turning his head slightly so that his blue eyes lock with mine. “But I’m not sure that’s possible anymore.”
I don’t want him to follow me inside when we return to the workshop, but he ignores my request. Waiting for me to grab some paperwork from my office, he stands in the doorway with his toned arms folded across his chest. I can feel his gaze wandering over my profile, and I pray that he moves. That he goes somewhere—anywhere—else in this building so I won’t have to confront him as I leave. But when I turn off the light to and start to head out, he’s still standing there.
He steps in front of me to block the exit, and I square my shoulders. “Goodnight, Jace,” I say. He moves close to me, and I shiver the second his hands brush my shoulders. He trails them down my arms, pressing the pads of his thumbs to the pulse points in my inner elbows, before finally closing his fingers around my wrists.
"You smell good.” He leans his nose to my hair, inhaling and every muscle in my body seizes. “I don’t think clearly when I smell you.”
“I need to get home, remember?” Staring down at the sliver of space between our bodies, I tighten my fists until my nails dig painfully into my palms. “What I don’t need is you telling me you want me one second and then telling me you can’t the next. I can’t do that.”
“Look at me.” When I don’t, he releases one of my wrists and cups my face, tilting it up, so I have no other choice but to obey. Electricity hums between us, thick and overwhelming.
“Why?” I clear my throat to dissolve the lump lodged between my heart and the back of my throat, the one that makes my voice sound so soft and weak. “So you can tell me again what you can’t and won’t do for the sake of—”
His mouth comes crashing down on mine, drawing me in for a long kiss that makes it impossible for me to think of anything other than the desire crackling through me. A soft moan escapes my lips, which Jace takes as an invitation to deepen the kiss, his tongue ravaging mine as it slips in and out of my mouth. I mold against him, my body on fire, and we’re both breathless when he draws away.
"I’ve told you that I want you, that I need to fuck you, but before we do this I want to hear it from you." I try to glance away again, so his fingers leave my face, curling into my black hair. I let out a throaty gasp as his eyes go to war with mine. "I want to hear you say it.”
“So you can add it to your list of things that I say and do that drive you crazy?” I demand, but he shakes his head. Wraps my hair around his large hand. Moves his lips so close that our breath becomes one.
“I want to hear it so I can fuck you without regrets.”
Desire snaps through me, and I’m glad he’s holding on to me to keep me from stumbling when my knees buckle. “I want you, Jace.” I start to lick my lips, but his tongue darts out, tracing the outline of my mouth for me. He pulls away, leaving me dizzy. “I want you, I want you. I don’t care if it’s for one night, I just—”
“That’s all I need to know, Lucy.”
Nineteen
Lucy
In the back of my mind, I know I should rethink this situation, to tell him that I just lied to him—I do care if it’s just one night—but I don’t. Because a stronger, more powerful force drives us across the workshop, to the same room he took photos of me in. And I can’t stop myself from taking what he’s offering with his hands, his lips, and his rock hard erection pressed up against the wetness between my thighs.
“We should,” I rasp against his mouth. “We should…”
"You should let me fuck you, love," he whispers, his voice rough and demanding. "Everything else can wait, but this..." He shoves my hand to his cock through his jeans, squeezing my fingers around his shaft. A harsh sound pushes past my lips because he’s big. Big and thick, and growing even more beneath my fingertips. “I’m not waiting for this anymore. You’ve made it impossible to.”
“What do you want me to do?” I hear myself whisper in a breathy voice that sounds detached from my body. I keep my gaze zeroed in on his, pumping my fingers over the coarse fabric of his jeans in my need to feel him. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
"I want you to come, Lucy. I want to hear you scream my name. Want to feel your nails down my back. Want to feel your cunt and mouth throbbing around my dick." He wedges his fingers between my thighs, cupping my sex until I shudder around him. Nobody’s ever spoken to me like this or touched me so boldly, and it shoots fire down my spine. He lowers his forehead to mine and growls, “But first I want to taste your pussy.”
My core tightens, and when he moves his hand from my thighs, I can feel my panties clinging to my sex. “Now?” I rasp. He lifts his broad shoulder as he drags his tee shirt over his head, and before I can stop myself, I splay my fingers over the roses and tribal art tattoo spanning his chest. “Why shrug?”
“Why rush?” He twists me around to face one of the metal bedposts, releasing a wicked chuckle in my ear when I wrap my fingers around it and hold on tight. "I've wanted to see you do this since you walked into my office and I realized who you were,” he murmurs into my ear, his warm breath fanning the nape of my neck, my shoulder blades, my hair. “And I wanted you well before that, too.”
"So did I," I admit on a soft, whimpering sigh. His lips connect with the tender flesh under my left ear lobe. My head falls back as his tongue leaves a hot path along my skin.
"You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to spread you on my desk or your desk or in the break room and lick you until you came.” Reaching around, he cups my face, turning my head to the side, so I’m looking over my shoulder and into his stormy eyes. “Tonight, I’ll get to do that.”
“We’re not at my desk or the break room, Jace,” I point out softly, and he responds by squeezing my center, grinding his fingertips over the fabric and panties separating him from my sex. The friction leaves me gasping for air.
“Not now we’re not, but you never know where I’ll fuck you later.”