Page 38 of One Little Victory

“I suggested a date. A date where I can touch you like this.” I ran my hands over his shoulders, massaging his biceps.

“And this.” Moving my hands higher, I cupped his jaw and brought my lips to his, teasing the seam with my tongue. His hands rested on my hips, and he made a low sound in the back of his throat.

“This too.” One hand stayed around his neck, but I let the other wander down his side to cup his tight, biteable ass before gliding my fingers lower and gathering my lingering wetness. I pushed him back and brought my fingers within his line of sight, loving how his eyes went dark. He grabbed my wrist and wrapped his lips around my fingers, sucking and licking until a needy sound escaped my throat.

“Friday then,” he said, popping my fingers out of his mouth and licking his lips. “I’ll make a reservation at Circa 1886 for us. His hand stayed in mine, and he trailed the other down my cheek and over my breast, circling my nipple through the fabric.

“Come on.” He pulled me toward the door where my cardigan rested beside his jacket, and took a handkerchief out of the inner pocket. He slowly bent down and caressed the cloth over my thighs, cleaning me off before pressing a kiss to my hip and smoothing down my dress.

“And Pop Rock,” he said as his smirk returned and he stood, squeezing my hand. “I don’t want you wearing panties Friday either.”

I stumbled but righted myself quickly, feeling my cheeks redden with his words. He opened the door and turned to me, “I’m going to have so much fun with you, honey.”

I let him pull me through and back down the hall, desperately thinking of something witty to say, but nothing came. Another crack formed around the wall to my heart as we left the library, and I had no freaking clue what to do about it.