there, extending a hand and bidding us farewell. I’ll make sure to add a generous tip to the card charge for both him and the waiter.
“How was your evening, Miss Morgan?” George asks the moment we step outside.
“Perfect,” she coos, resting her head against my upper arm.
We slip into the back of the car and head toward downtown. Kyla’s sitting close—very fucking close. I can feel the heat of her body, smell the sweetness of her perfume, and hear the subtle inhale of her breath. My body is hyperaware of her nearness. All I want to do is take her in my arms and kiss those intoxicating lips.
Kyla shifts in her seat, sliding her bare shin against my leg. The contact goes straight to my groin like a teenager. I reach for the speaker button. “George, would you mind just driving around for a while?”
“No problem, sir.”
My intention is to steal a kiss or two, but the moment I turn in her direction, she seems to launch herself at me. Well, as much as she can with a seat belt on. My good intention is thrown right out the window. Her mouth is hot, her touch even hotter.
Suddenly, all bets are off.
Chapter Twelve
Kyla
I have no idea what comes over me. One minute, I’m tucked securely into Matthew’s side and the next, I’m practically throwing myself at him in the back seat of the town car like a cat in heat.
My mouth lands on his firm and hard, my leg tossed up and over his thigh. My hands dive for his hair. I want to get closer but am restricted. It isn’t until I hear the seat belt release that I even remembered I was wearing it. It’s also then I feel myself moving. Without breaking the contact of our mouths, Matthew maneuvers me until I’m straddling his waist. My dress has ridden up but doesn’t expose anything, and I’m honestly not sure I’d care if it did.
From this angle, we’re able to deepen the kiss. His hands delve into my hair, slightly tugging on the strands as he entwines his fingers within. All that does is make me dig my own fingers deeper into his hair. It’s lush and soft, and when I score my nails across his scalp, he groans in pleasure. Speaking of pleasure, I feel it pressed firmly between my thighs at the moment, and all I want to do is wiggle closer to feel that hard length…everywhere.
I have no idea how long we drive around and make out like teenagers, but when I’m completely breathless and out of my mind with need, Matthew breaks the kiss. My eyelids are heavy, but I’m able to crack them open just enough to see the man who’s slowly changing my entire world. His eyes are dark and wild, so full of the same desire I feel coursing through my veins.
He moves his right hand, cupping my cheek and dragging his fingers down the side of my throat. Goosebumps pepper my skin at the contact, so intimate. “This dress,” he starts, shaking his head when he can’t seem to find the right words.
“What about it?” I ask, breathlessly.
“I’m going to have dreams about it for the rest of my life. First seeing you coming down the stairs, and now, watching it ride up your legs,” he says, moving his hands to my thighs. He slowly pushes the dress up just a little, his large, warm palms cupping my skin.
I close my eyes and just revel in the feel of his hands. They don’t really move any closer to where I ache, which is a little disheartening. “Hey, Cowboy?” I whisper, keeping my eyes shut so I can get through the next part.
“Yes?” His voice is raspy and raw.
“Are you going to touch me?”
When he doesn’t reply right away, I feel my heart drop to my toes. Matthew doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. His hands hold still on my legs, and I can’t help but wonder if I completely misread this situation. Maybe he doesn’t want me the way I thought he did.
“Open your eyes, beautiful.” His words are direct, yet soft, and when I do as instructed, I find an intensity that steals my breath. “Watch me touch you.”
I gaze down to his hands and watch in complete rapture as they finally move. He grazes across my upper thighs, moving toward the apex of my legs. The tips of his fingers sweep across my panties. I’m certain he can