Page 57 of Undeniably Corrupt (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires #7)

My hand slides up to the curve of her waist. She’s short.

A lot shorter than I am. I can tell that by where my hand is and the feel of her breath as it meets my neck.

“I’ve done that. It’s exhilarating and definitely something to try at least once in your life.

What else do you have? Spice it up for me. ”

“Oh, are we getting dirty? I don’t typically tell my spicy fantasies to strangers in dark rooms.”

“That’s because you haven’t tried it before. Another thing we can scratch off your bucket list. Who better to bear your dirty secrets to?”

“Now we’re onto secrets?”

“The dirty kind,” I remind her, shifting a little closer, testing boundaries.

“Because I can’t see you and you can’t see me?”

I find myself smiling again, her lightness somehow making the weight I haven’t been able to shake more bearable. “Exactly.”

“You tell me one of yours and I’ll tell you one of mine,” she teases, her body brushing mine as she moves, the feel of her soft tits against my shirt making my cock pulse and shooting a fresh jolt of desire straight through me.

“I like your voice. And I like the way you smell. A lot. I like how you feel too. You’re soft and sweet and sexy.”

“See, you’re better at this than you were giving yourself credit for.”

“Yeah? Are my moves working?”

“Absolutely. I like that you think I’m all those things. Even if you haven’t seen me.” Her hand rests at the junction of my neck and shoulder, the feel of her small, warm hand on my skin sending a shiver down my spine.

“I don’t have to see you to taste you.”

Then my hand is on her cheek, and I’m kissing her.

Hard. No soft introduction or light, testing peck.

I kiss her because I’m a little drunk and a lot excited, and it’s been so fucking long and I’ve been so goddamn miserable for what feels like eternity that I don’t know how to hold back.

Her lips are full and delicious, tasting faintly of cranberry and champagne, likely from the punch she mentioned.

But the best part? She makes this tiny, surprised noise that instantly becomes a moan before her mouth opens beneath mine.

And there’s nothing tentative about her either.

She’s kissing me back with equal fervor, her body sliding up mine as she climbs to her tiptoes in her shoes.

Our tongues meet and our heads tilt and I pull her closer, one hand tangled in her hair, the other at the small of her back.

Her body is warm and yielding against mine, curves fitting perfectly along the planes of my chest. Something between a sigh and a whimper emanates from the back of her throat, and I feel it resonate through my entire body.

The kiss deepens, turning hungry. My hand slides lower, following the curve of her spine to her ass, where I squeeze and pull her against me so she can feel how hard I am for her. She gasps and arches into me, and I’m dying to rip the top of her dress back down so I can feel her tits in my palms.

Her hands slide under my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders, and I let it fall to the floor, lost in the sensation of her touch, the heat of her mouth, and the way her body responds to mine.

Time loses meaning in the darkness. I don’t know how long we stand here kissing like teenagers, our hands exploring with increasing boldness. I just know I never want to stop.

My fingers find the zipper at the back of her dress, and just as I begin to lower it, there’s a flicker, a hum, and suddenly the lights are back on, harsh and unforgiving after the ceaseless darkness.

We both startle back, and I blink, momentarily blinded, only to find myself staring into a pair of wide green eyes that I know all too well. Eyes I’ve seen a hundred times across dinner tables and at family gatherings, but never this close, never darkened with desire.

Oh my god. Holy shit.

“Aston?!” she exclaims, taking another step back and covering her mouth with one hand as she adjusts her breasts in her dress with the other. I dive down and grab my jacket, hastily shoving my hands back into it, angry, frustrated, or just simply fucked.

“Skylar.” It ends there. Because I just made out with my best friend’s little sister.

A best friend who is in the other room. Fuck!

I haven’t seen her in forever. Not since she was a wild college kid, eighteen or nineteen, at a party that Micha dragged me to so we could keep an eye on her, and she threw up on me. That was… six years ago?

Jesus. What have I done?

She wasn’t someone I could kiss.

Or want to do more with. Shit. That kiss…

“We shouldn’t have done that,” I tell her, scrubbing my hands up and down my face, feeling like a world-class asshole. “I didn’t know it was you. Your brother is right out there.” The things I said to her…the things I would have done…

Guilt swarms me like a pack of rabid bees.

“Relax. It’s not like I tell Micha who I kiss.”

I laugh caustically into my hands. “That’s not exactly the point, and you know it. This was a giant mistake. On both our parts.”

She opens her mouth only before she can say anything, the door bursts open, and a girl walks in.

Thankfully not her brother. The tequila in my stomach roils, threatening to rebel.

I have to go back out there and talk to Micha and pretend like I didn’t just kiss the hell out of his baby sister.

Pretend like she didn’t make me hard and hungry and excited.

“Hey,” the girl says, and I realize I know her too. Awesome. Braelyn blinks her large brown eyes at us, shifting back and forth between both of us. “I’ve been looking for you,” she says to Skylar. “We should get going.”

Skylar nods. “Yeah.” That’s all she says, but now she’s not meeting my eyes. And without a word to me, she walks off to join her friend, leaving me standing here in shock and completely out of sorts. I just fucked up. Big time.