They sat in silence until he reached Maggie’s house. Her grip on his arm and the warmth of her right there next to him only made the longings that had begun earlier in the evening stronger.
“Come in for a drink?” she asked.
Clay didn’t even bother to offer any of that “it’s late” bullshit. He wanted to come in so bad he could taste it.
Still, he held back as he led her to the house. He removed her coat without pressing his lips to that spot on the back of her neck he’d been longing to kiss all night. He managed to keep from catching hold of her hand and jerking her into his arms so he could ravish her lips.
Instead, he followed her into the living room, surprised when she pulled out whiskey tumblers and poured them each two fingers neat of Cameron’s favourite whiskey. The bottle he’d given his friend for his birthday back in the fall.
Thirty years old was far too young to die.
Maggie pressed a glass into his hand. Her eyes were moist, but she smiled and raised her drink in the air. “To a brighter future.”
He touched his glass to hers with a gentle clink, then they both drank. The golden liquid burned a fiery path down Clay’s throat. Warmth spread to his chest and gut as they put the glasses aside.
Nothing between them but a foot of air.
Her eyes were mesmerizing. Her tongue darted over her lips as she licked away the last of the liquor. Her breathing accelerated, her chest moving like seduction under that damn dress that showed off her figure to perfection.
She lifted a hand and laid it over his chest, and there was no way to deny the solid thumping she must’ve felt against her palm.
“What are we doing?” he whispered. He had to be certain.
“Living.”
God. He laid a hand over hers, pinning her in place. With his other hand, he slid his fingers past her cheek, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. Soft skin under his touch, bright eyes staring into his as her lips opened partway, an invitation he craved to accept. “Are you sure?”
She nuzzled against his palm, her eyes closing as she moved against him. “I want this. I want you.”
Any hesitation he might have had washed away in that moment. The sheer utter longing in her tone told him all he needed. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck, fingers nestled into her hair as he cupped her head and tilted it enough that he could lean forward and brush his lips over hers.
A brief, gentle touch. Just enough to take a first taste.
His entire body had gone hard, every muscle primed as she moved against him like she had on the dance floor. But now he could give in to the cravings that he had—and he intended to. One exquisite moment at a time.
Like being given keys to a vintage wine cellar, he didn’t want to rush and miss a single moment of the experience.
He spread his fingers on her lower back and brought their bodies even closer as he went in for another kiss. This one more intense, asking for more, slipping his tongue against her lips until she opened to him and let him in.
His previous fantasies had nothing on the real thing. As Maggie stirred against him, warm breath mixing with his and womanly curves pressed against his hardness, he was glad. It was a brand-new experience. It was enough to blow his mind.
He moved them backward, tempted to rush ahead, ripping away that dress so he could strip her naked. He wanted to be buried inside her so badly.
But no matter how much she said she wanted this, he needed to make sure. He paused when his calves hit the couch, breaking the distance between them so he could look into her eyes and make sure she was still fully on board.
Her lips were swollen from his kisses, wet with moisture. Her pupils were wide, and she stared back, panting heavily.
“God, I could eat you up just in one bite,” he breathed. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her again in spite of his intentions to slow down.
She jerked opened his dress jacket and shoved it from his shoulders. He let go of her so he could toss it aside.
Maggie caught him by surprise and planted a hand on his chest, pushing him onto the couch before lifting the edge of her skirt so she could straddle his thighs and rest in his lap. “Don’t mind me. I have this thing I’ve wanted to do for a while. It requires undressing you.”
Clay had no objections. “I plan to return the favour.”
She loosened his tie, her eyes serious as she worked the silk from around his neck. She pulled it free then dropped it on top of his jacket. He wasn’t sure what to watch—her face as she worked on the buttons of his dress shirt, or his hands as he eased them up her bare thighs under the raised portion of her dress.
“I like your hands on me,” she admitted with a purr of pleasure.
“I’m glad, because I plan to have them there for a good long time.”
He caught her licking her lips again, and he skimmed his hands up the outside of her dress, pulling her forward as he stole in for another kiss. His shirt hung open, and the warm swells of her breasts pressed against him through her dress.
It wasn’t enough. He wanted bare skin to bare skin, but he didn’t want to miss taking one step at a time.
And kissing her—
Fuck, he could do that all night.
Return to Let It Ride
