Page 40 of The Best Worst Mistake (Off-Limits #2)

Dax

By the time we race up to my door after making out at every stoplight all the way home, I’m ready to push Abby up against the wall, right there against the front of my house.

She spent most of the drive rubbing my throbbing cock through my pants in the dark. It took everything in me not to pull over and take her right there in the car. Breathless moans escaped her lips as I fought to keep my hands off of her.

At one point, I had my hand shoved up beneath the hem of her sundress, clutching onto the rim of her panties, running my thumb back and forth along that soft center of hers over the fabric, feeling how ready she was for me through the thin cotton.

Now, she’s watching me try to get the front door unlocked but the key isn’t going in.

“Never seen you have trouble getting anything in before,” she says, pulling me into her, kissing me harder after my third failed attempt.

I continue trying to shove the key into the door with my hands wrapped behind her back, while she’s kissing me, but the lack of success eventually makes her laugh.

“Fuck,” I breathe out, pulling away so I can get us in the door.

I hold the key up to the porch light and realize I’ve been trying to shove my office key into my own front door lock this whole time. How long have I lived here?

“It’s okay, Mr. Harper,” she whispers, wrapping herself around me from behind so I can see what I’m doing.

She slips one hand down the front of my pants, clasping onto my cock, coiling her hand around me while I try to concentrate on finding the correct key.

It’s impossible.

I close my eyes and brace myself against the door.

“You have to stop,” I say, grabbing her hand, forcing it not to move another inch. “I want your entire body but if you keep doing that . . .” I trail off.

She laughs and holds her arms out to the side, like she’s about to get searched, still pressing against me from behind.

“Your wish is my command. But you’d better get this thing open or your neighbors are about to get a show.”

Two years. That’s how long I’ve lived here and that’s how long it feels it’s taken before I get the door open and grab her around the waist to get us both inside. I slam the door shut and immediately push her up against it, not even bothering to turn the lights on.

She wrings my shirt in her fists, kissing me like it’s the first time we’ve ever done this and she’s starved for me.

I pull Abby’s dress up over her head and toss it to the floor behind us, then start working my way down her body with my tongue, tasting every inch of her skin.

The salt and sun of the ocean are still ripe on my tongue, tangy and sweet.

“I wish I had time to shower,” she says between groans.

“You’re not fucking showering right now,” I growl into her neck. “You’re not going anywhere. I want you exactly how you are.”

She moans gently when I unclasp her bra, letting her breasts spill out into my hands. I take one in my mouth while kneading the tip of the other between my fingers.

“You taste fucking amazing,” I tell her, wrapping my mouth around her nipple, before returning to her lips.

She tilts her head back against the door, eyes closed, smiling.

“Funny, I could say the same for you,” she says, breathlessly.

My cock throbs in response and I press myself against her.

“You have no idea how bad I want you,” I tell her, pulling her panties off.

The fabric hits the floor, and I take a step back, fully aware that I’ve just undressed her without removing a single thread of clothing from myself.

“Take me wherever you want,” she says, arching her back off the door, pulling my lips back into hers.

She grabs my hands and wraps them around her waist, planting them firmly on her ass. I squeeze the flesh, pushing my hard cock along the front of her, needing her more than ever before.

“Bedroom?” she asks.

“Too far,” I say, wrapping my teeth across her collarbone, biting down slightly.

She gasps but pushes closer into me, a full body shiver rocking her. Goosebumps spring up on her skin.

“Here then,” she asks, unbuckling my belt.

I slide my jeans off to the floor, my boxers and tee still hanging on — but just barely. I want nothing but skin between us.

“Condom,” she says, finding a spot of flesh beneath my ear. The place she knows I love.

It’s nearly impossible to stop myself once she starts doing that, but I have to.

“In my bedroom,” I say, stepping back. I hold one finger up in front of her. “Don’t you dare move.”

I take another step away and can see her standing; can see her from head to toe. Her black mane nearly covers her breasts, while the curve of her hips is leading me to the promised land.

I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her away from the door, holding her face between my palms, telling myself to go get what we need, but finding it impossible to walk away from this. She grasps onto my forearms, kissing me harder, then pulls my shirt up over my head.

“You are fucking gorgeous,” I say into her mouth, holding her face between my palms.

Then I reach a hand between her legs. She moans into my ear when I slide two fingers up into her, finding her clit with my thumb, and groan into her neck.

She’s never been more ready. She widens her legs to make room for me, and as much as I want to slip these boxers off and push the rest of me into her, I know I have to stop.

“Don’t move,” I say.

I walk away, wishing to heaven I already had a condom in my pocket . . .

But when I come back to the foyer, she’s gone.

“Abby?” I call out, the house still dark except for a yellow glow coming from the kitchen.

When I walk in, she’s sitting on the counter top, one knee crossed over the other with a glass of water in one hand, her hair spilling across her shoulders and chest.

She smiles.

“Thirsty?” I ask, leaning against the entry, grinning at the sight of Abby sitting naked in my kitchen.

“You have no idea how thirsty a girl can get,” she says, taking another sip.

Then she uncrosses her knees, and spreads them a few inches apart, arching her back. My eyes drink in the sight of her, no longer thinking about anything but my tongue and all the things I want to do to her with it right now.

“What about you?” she asks.

“Wider,” I say, staying where I am.

Her knees slide apart farther. Everything I’ve been missing since New York comes into view. She puts the glass down between her thighs so my view of her is suddenly blocked. Then she gives me a challenging look, arching a brow while holding back a smile, as if silently asking me to come move it.

“Move the glass,” I tell her. Then I step toward her.

Her eyes darken, but she moves the glass, placing it beside her, then widens her knees even more, leaning back on one hand.

“You have no idea what I’ve wanted to do to you since you got here,” I tell her, closing the gap between us, not yet wanting this image of Abby sitting here like this to be over, but not sure how long I can keep my hands to myself.

“Show me, then,” she says, draping her eyes across mine. “And don’t be shy about it.”