Page 74 of Mine
Once we were in the office, he shut the door behind us and then leaned against it.
“I’m gonna be honest,” he said, tilting his head as he studied me. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or happy.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I mean, it’s just a pair of pants.”
“No, it’s not.” I shook my head, licking my lips. “You knew damn well when you put those on I was gonna practically come just looking at you.”
He smirked like the cocky, confident devil he was, but there was a softness behind it.
“As good as you look in a suit, you look even better like this,” I added. “Relaxed and slightly undone.”
He took a step forward and lowered his voice as he licked his lips. “I worked overnight. Everything’s done. I told everyone at the office that if they needed me, no they didn’t.”
That was a big deal as well. Huge even.
“But also,” he continued, “I have a favor this weekend. Help with something that I think only you could help me with.”
I nodded slowly. I didn’t even need to know what it was. If he asked, I’d do it.
“Hey, you okay?” He reached for me gently.
I nodded again. It was all I could manage. It was the only English I could remember.
Without thinking, I slid my hand beneath his T-shirt and hooked my finger into the waistband of his jeans. West grabbed my chin and tilted my face to his.
His eyes were darker than usual. Focused. And suddenly, I was looking at a man I hadn’t seen before. He wasn’t the West who wore cufflinks and bought bars, but he wasn’t the vulnerable one from our quiet moments either. He was both.
I rubbed my thighs together, the pulse between them making it hard to stand still.
Of course West noticed and his lips curled slightly. “Is my girl feeling needy?”
I nodded again. One more word and I was going to melt into the floor.
“Damn,” he murmured. “Who knew a pair of jeans would do that to you?”
“It’s not the jeans,” I whispered against his lips. “It’s you.”
“What about me?” His hand moved between us. He popped the button on my jeans and slid the zipper down slowly.
“I’ve spent all week needing you, West.”
“I’m here now,” he growled.
Then his mouth was on mine, but only for a second before he spun me around and slid his hand into my jeans. He was pressing his chest against my back and his fingers started stroking my clit. His free hand held me upright as my knees started to give.
I moaned, the sound swallowed by the music pouring through the walls. Thank God it had started. I reached back, gripping his neck, guiding his mouth to the place I needed it most.
He didn’t hesitate. His tongue dragged across my pulse point, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along the sensitive skin of my neck. His fingers slid lower, parting me, hooking inside until I gasped.
He held me there, open and desperate.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered against my ear.
I nodded, panting.
“I missed you all week. You were all I could think about. Those short little texts felt like transactions. It was driving me fucking crazy.”
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