Bad Engagement (Billionaire's Club #10) - Elise Faber Page 0,28

her the bag.

She wrapped her fingers around his, halted the bag in mid-air. “What if I said I wasn’t interested in breakfast?” she asked quietly. “What if I said that I wanted to kiss you again instead?”

His dick twitched. His fingers tightened on the brown paper, making it crinkle loudly in the quiet of the morning. His jaw clenched.

She stretched up, kissed the ticking muscle. “So tense.”

“Such a tease,” he murmured, covered her hand with his free one. “Wearing those sexy shorts.” He dropped his palm to her bare thigh, slid it up an inch, fingers tracing light circles when her breath caught. “Kissing me until I can’t think, can’t remember all the reasons I’d been promising myself to give you romance.”

Her mouth curved. Her eyes went soft. “Were there a lot of reasons?”

“I made a list.”

She giggled, the tinkling sound sliding over his skin, helping him wrench himself back under control.

Then she bit her lip again, her eyes taking on a slightly guilty expression.

“What?” he rasped out.

That gorgeous mouth parting, the shuddering exhale drifting over his skin. “I made a list, too,” she said, all soft. And close. She was close enough that the floral smell of her shampoo drifted over him, mixed with the damp earth scent of the garden, the humid perfume of the morning air.

His hand clenched on her thigh, and she jumped.

“Sorry,” he murmured, relaxing his hold, not wanting to ever hurt her.

“No.” She placed her palm over his, squeezed lightly. “It felt good.”

More heat. More dick twitching. More of his control fading. More of his plan disappearing into so much smoke.

Jaime traced patterns on her silken skin, feeling goose bumps rise from the contact.

“Aren’t you going to ask about my list?” she eventually asked.

Her pupils were dilated, that tempting fucking mouth too close, but there was also mischief in her gaze, warming the brown of her irises, and he wanted her to feel comfortable enough to tease, to play, even if it meant tormenting him with all her sexy skin and lip-biting and a list he thought was going to put his control to the test.

“Yes.”

Her brows rose expectantly.

He grinned. “What’s on your list, Red?”

Pink on her cheeks, even though she was the one who’d pressed the issue, but the mischief was also still there as she glanced up at him with dancing eyes and put it right out there. “It’s a list of all the places I’ve imagined you kissing me.”

There was no tempering his reaction, no holding on to his control.

Her soft mix of shy and not had obliterated any hope he had of pulling back.

He dropped the much-abused bag, knew the pastries inside were probably already reduced to crumbs and not giving one damn. Her thigh that was under his palm tightened, and he groaned, continued massaging the strong muscle that was covered in silk. His other hand went to her cheek, thumb shifting to rub against her bottom lip.

“Did you imagine me kissing you here?” he asked, voice filled with gravel.

She nodded, eyes hot, huskiness invading her words. “Yes.”

He dipped his head and slanted his lips across hers, taking her mouth in a kiss that was pure desire, fanning the flames of his need until he was almost surprised to not find himself reduced to ash.

Only when he felt like his lungs would explode did he release Kate’s mouth.

Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession, her fingers clenching the fabric of his T-shirt. Her body so close and so fucking tempting.

He ran his knuckles along the column of her throat. “What about here?”

She nodded.

Jaime bent and pressed his lips to the side of her neck, nipping lightly then soothing the slight sting with his tongue.

She gasped, threaded her fingers into his hair and tugged. “Oh!”

“Fuck, I love the way you say that,” he murmured, stealing a quick hard kiss from her mouth just because he could, but also because he couldn’t resist those lips. He stroked a finger lower, dipped it into the front of her tank top. “What about here?”

“No.” She grabbed his hand, brought it to her breast. “I imagined you kissing me here.”

The edges of his vision went hazy.

“Kate—”

Her fingers twitched, which meant that his fingers twitched, and holy hell the feel of her beneath his hand, soft and squeezable and damned near overfilling his hold was. So. Freaking. Glorious.

“Will you?” she murmured, shifting slightly, and he felt the hard bud of her nipple brush against his palm. “Will you kiss me here, Jaime?”

Fuck the pastries.

Fuck