Page 60 of One Bossy Date

My body didn’t move an inch, even as my brain told me I should go back to my room and stay there. Anders ran his hand up my arm now, all the way to my shoulder, then touched my hair that hung loose. He twirled his finger around a stray strand. And that strand of hair definitely had some sort of electric connection to my breasts, because my nipples started brushing against my shirt.

“Just business.” His voice was low, his eyes laser-locked on mine. “After all, I do plan to leave the city.”

Right. He was letting me know that this would be casual. That I shouldn’t expect a relationship, and at this point in my life, that was perfectly fine by me.

I appreciated the honesty. He didn’t play games.

I had a lot on my plate right now, and there was a reason I’d taken a fake date to my gran’s party—because I had no intention of finding myself a boyfriend anytime soon. I couldn’t make any promises to anyone either. After all, I hardly had anything to give: no place to live, no money, no time, and no will. What it boiled down to: I was a hot mess with now-hard nipples, and I just wanted something casual too. I wanted Anders. No romantic issues getting in the way.

Luckily, there were no feelings between us. And never would be.

“Okay,” I agreed, sliding my hands onto his waist and pulling him around to stand between my knees. “One kiss.”

He smiled, positioning himself closer, taking his time gliding his palms onto my thighs as he leaned in. Anders looked fucking edible tonight. Those arms exposed every ripple of muscle, and I’d been dying to feel his large hands on my body again.

“Wish granted,” he rumbled.

The moment our lips touched, there was no going back to “just roommates” or “just boss-employee.” He slipped his hands all the way onto my ass, squeezing deliciously. The last time we’d kissed it had been tentative, careful, as we felt each other out. Tonight, it seemed like he wanted more, so much more. And so did I. I wanted a memory of him that would last forever.

His lips were gentle on mine, but oh so hungry. His tongue teased mine, and I allowed him entrance as my tongue swirled around his. My leg curled around his thigh, and I wrapped my arm around his neck.

“Baby,” he breathed into my mouth and suddenly pulled me with his hands still on my ass, right up against him so I was seated on the very edge of the counter. All I could focus on was the hard bulge that stood to the side of his crotch and pressed against me. Holy shit! It seemed big. Huge. My legs wrapped more tightly around his hips, and he pulled my body flush against him.

Our kiss grew more desperate. After several minutes, he rested his forehead against mine, our heavy breathing filling the space between us.

“I can’t fucking stop,” he growled.

“Then don’t.”

He groaned and delved back in. We kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

And what a kisser he was. My whole body tingled. I wanted him to touch me so badly, but I knew we shouldn’t, we couldn’t. Also, I was out of practice. Nonetheless, my arms slid down his back to his ass, and I squeezed. He had a great butt. He began slow, rhythmic thrusts against my core, his hard dick pressing softly against my clit.

I tried my best to hold back a moan, but I couldn’t. “Anders…wa…” I muttered.

I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. The man had reduced me to a babbling, incoherent, completely turned-on mess of desire and wantonness. Did I care? Not in the least.

He looked at me, without stopping his light prodding against my core, watching my panting face, brushing my hair over my shoulder and dipping his head to kiss my neck.

“Yeah?”

I wanted to protest, to tell him, “Wait, just one kiss, remember?” But I couldn’t. Physically couldn’t.

Anders started just under my ear and planted soft kisses in a line down to my shoulder. Then he worked his way back up and pressed his mouth into the crevice of my neck where he sucked on my skin and bit me softly. Helplessly, I groaned into his ear, needing something to happen right now.

Continuing his kisses along my neck, he let his hands travel under my T-shirt and up my back, and then around to my front. All I had on underneath was a light bra. He found his way into it and swiped a thumb across my hardened nipple.

“I’ve wanted to touch your breasts since I first laid eyes on you wet in my apartment,” he growled.

“Ahhh.” I was more sensitive than I expected and couldn’t help crying out.

“Your breasts are fucking perfect, such beautiful nipples.” Anders began kissing my mouth again, his hips thrusting once more in slow and steady motions. His hand cupped my breast and teased my nipple mercilessly, then caressed the entire globe. His other hand made its way back to my thigh. Only this time, he slipped between us instead of back to my ass. Over the thin material of the yoga pants, his thumb swept my clit and kept the circular motion going.

“Yeah,” I groaned into his mouth, my eyes closed now. “That’s…the spot.”

“That’s right, baby. Tell me what you want.”

God, I wanted this. Ever since this morning—no, since Friday night—I’d wanted this.