Shaking her head, she jerks my collar and tugs me close, her forehead pressed to mine. “You can’t. Because I want you too much. And it’s not like the other times, Jason. I can’t pretend we’re just friends after everything that’s happened. Kiss me now.”

  I cup her cheek and claim her lips. I crush her mouth in a searing kiss that goes straight to my head, that makes my mind spin deliriously in a Truly-induced haze. I kiss her like it’s a living hell not to have my mouth on her, all over her, everywhere.

  Her hands tangle in my hair, and she pulls me even closer, kisses back just as greedily. Her sighs and murmurs wind me tighter, send me higher. We kiss so hard our teeth click. We kiss so fiercely that we bite. I grab at her shirt, her skirt, wanting to tear off her clothes.

  “Do you have to go back out there?” I ask.

  “I do. In like five minutes.” Her voice is breathy, desperate.

  “Five minutes? We haven’t got a second to lose. Let me bury my face in your pretty little . . . summer . . . so I can make you come on my tongue.”

  Laughing, she scoots back on her desk and opens her legs.

  Fuckkkkk. “Seems you like that idea.”

  She grabs my chin, meets my gaze. “Your mouth is insanely talented, and I’ve missed it. Go down on my . . . lily.” She chuckles.

  “I’m going to, but I can’t fucking say summer, lily, or silver again, so I’m just going to eat your fantastic pussy like it’s dessert.”

  “Do it now.” She hikes up her skirt, a blatant invitation.

  I park myself in her desk chair, slide my hands up the smooth skin of her thighs, and yank the lace of her knickers to the side.

  I groan at the sight of her wetness. She practically shimmers with desire as she hooks her shoes against the edge of the desk. Fucking perfect. I lick one delicious line up her center. My eyes roll into the back of my head from the intoxicating taste of her. I’m burning everywhere from one lick, one touch, one kiss.

  She is too, judging from the way she grabs my hair, curling her hands around my skull and whispering, “Do it fast. You know it won’t take me long.”

  I smile against her heat, moving my face back and forth, letting her feel my stubble. “I love your confidence in me.”

  “It’s because you have an impeccable track record.”

  “Far be it from me to break it, then.”

  I return to exactly where I want to be—feasting on her, tasting her, flicking my tongue, kissing her hard, devouring her.

  I’ve only done this to her once before, but I’ve missed it immensely. And I remember exactly how my woman likes it. She likes to be consumed, with hungry kisses and a lot of penetration. I bring my fingers between her legs and slide two inside. She bucks against me, thrusting and rocking and moaning and groaning, and I’m in absolute heaven with her, eating her out on her desk. This powerful, sensual, strong woman who all but told me we’re not simply a good fuck anymore. That we’re something more too. I don’t know what that’s going to be. All I know is I need to send her over the edge right now.

  She rocks faster, moans louder.

  So good.

  Oh my God.

  Just like that.

  I’m close, so close, keep going.

  Yes, yes, yes. I’m there. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  She detonates, coming on my lips like the overachiever she is in the having orgasms department. This woman can climax like a rock star.

  When she comes down, I help straighten her up, sorting her skirt and her knickers. She gazes at me with glossy, hazy eyes and whispers, “I don’t think we’re in the friend zone anymore, Toto.”

  37

  “So, yeah. I have to agree. There was nothing particularly friendly about that,” I say.

  “I don’t feel friendly at all.” She grabs my face and plants a searing kiss on my lips, more intoxicating because I know she tastes herself on me. Because she has the same appetite I do, the same intensity.

  When she pulls back, she slides her hand along the front of my pants. “I want you. Want to taste you. Want to have you.”

  “I’d be amenable to that as well,” I say, groaning in frustration, since I know it can’t happen now.

  “I wish I didn’t have to get back out there. But I want you to know I’m going to be thinking about you.” She squeezes, sending a fresh wave of heat rolling down my spine. “But not just this. All of you.”

  “So, not just the sex parts of me, which obviously I want you fantasizing about ninety-nine percent of the time. But also the other parts?”

  She laughs. “Yes, the other parts.”

  “They’re very happy with one percent.”

  “Might be higher than that.” Letting go, she smooths a hand over her skirt then meets my gaze. “So, I know we should probably figure out what this is, but there’s a part of me that also doesn’t want to. At least, not yet. Not tonight.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s all sorts of unexpected. And yet, not.”

  “Exactly. I didn’t even think I’d see you tonight, but then you showed up, and look at us. We can’t stay away from each other, can we?”

  Proving her point, I thread my fingers through her hair, savoring the feel of the soft waterfall of silk on my fingers. “It seems we can’t entirely.”

  She leans into me, and ever so briefly, I embrace her, savoring the tender, but too short moment.

  When she pulls back, she presses her hands to my chest. “The only thing I know is we’re pretty good at sleeping together and staying friends. Don’t you think?”

  “We’re aces.”

  “Maybe we should try sleeping together again and staying friends? Till we get the whole ‘sleeping together’ out of our system?”

  I flinch for a second then rein in my surprise. I don’t want to be friends with benefits. I want her in my system, not out of it. I want so much more of her. But I also know now isn’t the time to have this conversation. She’s already pushing the edges of her small window of time. “Sleep together, then go back into the zone?”

  “Sure?” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself. “What do you think?”

  “Let’s make a go of it.”

  I’ll take what I can get for now. I’ll accept her gracious offer because I can’t think about anything except her now. She’s in the front of my mind, and she’s rapidly claiming a stake in my heart.

  I’ll sort out the rest later.

  For now, I’m going to walk home and enjoy the night air with the taste of her still on my lips.

  38

  From the pages of Truly’s Drink Recipe Book

  The Get-Him-Out-of-My-System Cocktail:

  Gin

  Pineapple Juice

  Sometimes you break not just the rules, but your rules.

  You could say it’s because you can’t resist.

  But honestly, that’s not the answer.

  You’re an adult. You make choices. You choose to relinquish resistance.

  You let it fall through your fingers like grains of sand.

  You don’t care where the sand winds up. You want what you want.

  Even though it’s so much more than want now.

  It’s deeper, more intense, and scarier too.

  This feeling in your chest? It’s making you rethink everything. And when you feel this way, you need a little gin and some pineapple juice.

  It tastes strong and decadent too, like all your desires. Like your dangerous and delicious choices.

  Go fill a bowl of popcorn and have a snack with your cocktail.

  Yes, a whole bowl.

  After all, you can’t eat just one handful. And it’s not because you can’t resist.

  It’s because you’re choosing something else.

  And because you know this drink name is a lie. You don’t want him out of your system. You want him in it.

  You just don’t know how to get that without having the whole friendship burn to the ground.

  39

  Sully struts into the coffee shop, pointing to his trainers. “Check them out.”

  “You took the VaporMax out for a walk?” Troy asks, shooting an incredulous look at his fellow groomsman before smacking his forehead in exasperation. “Lord, what fools these mortals be.”

  “First off, no, I did not take my shoes out for a walk in New York City. Do I look stupid?” Sully asks.

  I hold up a stop-sign hand. “Don’t answer that, Troy.”

  “What? I don’t think he looks stupid. But I do contend wearing expensive shoes in New York City is the height of foolishness,” he says, answering anyway.

  Sully jumps in again. “Second, I know that’s from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

  The coffee cup nearly slips from Troy’s palm. “Wha . . .?”

  I snap my gaze to the sneakerhead who plops down in a leather chair, crossing one leg over the other, his shoes on full display.

  “You know where that’s from?” I ask.

  Sully scoffs. “I do indeed. Because I knew he was going to call me a fool. I knew he was going to quote Shakespeare to make his point. So I googled Shakespearean quotes on foolishness before I arrived. I was ready.”

  “Damn. You are an impressive fella. I have no choice but to high-five you.” I hold up a palm, and Sully smacks back.

  “You did that? You went to that level of prep to get my goat?” Troy asks, his jaw agape.

  Sully nods, takes a long pull of some kind of coffee drink, and exhales exaggeratedly. “I gamed it. Took my chances when I researched the quotes. I figured it’d be that one or The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. That’s from⁠—”

  “As You Like it,” Troy and Sully name the play in unison.

  “But see,” Sully continues, clearly enjoying his moment in the sun. “I went with the A Midsummer Night’s Dream one because I figured Troy would go with the simpler quote. The shorter one. Troy is all about brevity. And brevity is the soul of wit.”

  Troy’s eyes pop.

  Sully slams his hand on an imaginary buzzer. “And that’s from Hamlet, boys.”

  “I knew that, and I also know this.” Troy stands, bows, and declares, “We’re not worthy.”

  Sully pats his head. “And you better know that’s from Wayne’s World.”

  “Of course,” we both say together.

  “I’d have to turn in my man card if I didn’t know that,” Troy says.

  Sully takes another drink. “Also, to answer your question, oh ye of little faith, I carried my shoes in a bag, and I put them on at the door to show you clowns.”

  “Aww, that’s sweet that you’re giving us a special viewing of your shoes,” I say.

  “All right, gentlemen, let’s get down to business,” Troy says, rubbing his palms.

  Briefly, I’m taken aback because I usually lead these meetings, since I’m the boss. But Troy jumps into the deep end. “Tonight, you want us on our best behavior, you want us in our suits, and if anyone asks, we work in media production—keep it plain and simple. But wait. Why can’t I be a model like Enzo? I look like a model, don’t you think?” Troy gestures to his jawline.

  Sully shakes his head. “Have you seen Enzo? Dude, if you think you can model next to him, then I can dunk like Michael when I wear these shoes.”

  “Fair point.”

  “Maybe I could be like a Sears catalog model,” Troy offers.

  “Now you’re talking realism,” Sully says. “Except Sears is defunct.”

  “And another dream dies,” Troy says.

  We resume the rundown, reviewing the plan for tonight’s cocktail party, which is taking the place of a rehearsal dinner. When we’re done, I head home to get ready, and at seven fifteen, my phone rings with Truly’s name blasting across it. Odd. I didn’t expect her to arrive till seven thirty. “Hey, minx.”

  “I’m early. Want to let me in so I can finish what you didn’t let me start last night?”

  40

  She eyes me from head to toe. “You in that suit. That sexy tailored suit. Yes. That’s what I want.”

  I slide my hand down the wine-red tie. “You want to suck my cock while I’m in this suit?”

  She gazes at me like a lioness ready to pounce. “I absolutely do.”

  I undo my belt, taking my sweet time, loving that she came to play. I want to give her everything she wants, in and out of the bedroom. And in the bedroom, she likes the dirty talk. “Then far be it from me to deny you. Do it now. Suck me hard and good, just the way I like it.”

  “As if I’d do it any other way.” She points to my couch. “Sit. Take out that cock. I know you’re hard already.”

  “I was hard the second I saw your name on my phone.” I sit, unzipping my trousers, then pushing down my briefs. “Get on the floor. I want you on your knees.”

  She licks her lips, hikes up her black dress, and drops between my legs. No foreplay. No kissing. No need for that. I offer her my cock, and she takes it, dipping her mouth to my length, swirling her tongue across the head.

  I groan, electricity crackling over my skin from that first touch of her miraculous tongue. She licks the underside then back up, her fist wrapping tightly around the base.

  “Don’t tease me. Just suck it.”

  She shoots me a settle down look. “So impatient. Maybe I want to lavish attention all over your dick.”

  She hums as she wraps her lips around the head, and I nearly lose my mind. A jolt of lust surges down my body as I stare at her. My Truly, the woman I’m desperate for, has my dick between her glossy lips and is teasing the fuck out of me.

  “Maybe I want to come all over those pretty red lips,” I say, since two can play at this. Because the tease, the way we tango, is part of who we are, how we connect, in the bedroom and out.

  “I bet you’d like to come all over me,” she whispers naughtily, tugging at the neckline of her black dress, pulling it all the way down, then back up, giving me a tantalizing peek at her breasts. I’m aching for her. She’s only been in my place for a few minutes, and she’s already torturing me in the most exquisite way, as she grips tighter and squeezes the base, sucking deliciously on the tip.

  “You’re killing me,” I groan as my skin sizzles.

  She lets go. “Would you rather I stop?”

  My eyes widen, and I breathe out hard, grabbing her face, meeting that naughty, naughty gaze. “Please,” I ask, because I’m not above begging.

  “Please what? Please stop?”

  “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop for another second. I want to fuck your perfect mouth. I need to come between these sexy, decadent lips so damn soon.”

  Her smile spreads, slow and dirty, as she answers me by taking me in and drawing me deep. My pulse throbs everywhere. Pleasure careens through my body. My fingers curl around her skull, moving her head, finding a rhythm.

  She looks magnificent, such a dirty beauty, such a gorgeous, seductive woman. She knows what she wants. She radiates sexual confidence, and it turns me on more than anything ever has. She’s a woman who knows her own mind and her body. She gives and she takes, and she takes and she gives. And right now, she’s giving me the best blow job of my life.

  I’m burning up with desire for her, watching her lips slide up and down, feeling her tongue flick over my shaft. It’s a blow job, but fuck, it feels like so much more. It feels like the most intense pleasure given by the person—the only person—I want to give it to me.

  I thrust up into her mouth, starting to lose myself to these wicked sensations.

  But I don’t want to get lost in her mouth. I want to get lost in her.

  “I need to get inside you. I need to fuck you right now.”

  She lets go, gazes up with hooded eyes, and nods. “Yes, you do. Because I will be a desperate wreck all night if you don’t.”

  I take her hand, pull her up, and take her to the back of the couch. “Bend over. Let me see that beautiful ass of yours.”

  She pulls up her dress to her waist, and I yank down her knickers, a rumble working its way up my chest at the sight of her boot-camped booty. “Such a perfect ass.” I smack her cheek, and she yelps, then wiggles, asking for more.

  I give it to her, swatting the other cheek before I reach for my wallet and roll on a condom. I rub my cock against her heat, and I slide inside, shuddering from the sheer intensity.

  “I want to spend all night making you feel good,” I groan, bending my chest over her back, gripping her hair. “But we have to go soon. So I’m going to fuck you hard and fast. But know this—I’ve never wanted anyone this much, this intensely.”

  “I want you too. So much.”

  “And even when I’m fucking you like the clock is ticking, you’ve got to know I don’t want it to end.”

  She turns her face, her blue eyes fierce as she meets my gaze. “I don’t want it to end either.”

  Maybe we’re both saying other things, meaning other things. But now’s not the time to figure that out. Now is the time for hot, dirty fucking.

  That’s what I do, pumping into her, filling her. Thrusting hard, deep. Gripping her.

  She moans and groans, pants and cries out, and our noises mingle. Sliding a hand between her legs, I touch her where she wants me most.

  She trembles beautifully beneath me, her back arching, her hands clasping the furniture as if she’s holding on for life. “You like it when I do all the work,” I murmur.

  “Love it, fucking love it.”

  “So do I. Love it this way with you. Love it every way with you.”

  Words cease, and grunts and growls take over. Slaps of flesh. Bodies pressing together.

  Until she cries out, incoherent as she flies into blissful oblivion.

  It doesn’t take me long to follow her over the cliff as I come hard inside her, loving everything, absolutely everything, about the way she makes me feel.

  I wrap my arms around her, unable to resist kissing her. I brush my lips to her cheeks, against her hair and the shell of her ear. “You’re spectacular.”

  “And you’re going to look less than spectacular in that suit if we don’t get out of here soon.”