of my mouth quirks up. I’ve imagined how this woman would kiss since the moment I laid eyes on her. Would she be soft and delicate like her body? Or fierce and confrontational like her mind? The truth is, it wouldn’t matter. I’d take her anyway, anyhow, and anywhere in between as long as it meant I could kiss her. Have her.
I dip my head and pause before our lips touch. “Don’t ever change that part of you.”
“What part?” she asks breathlessly as she anticipates my contact.
“The part that always challenges me.” I bite my lip and move my nose to her neck to breathe in her scent, causing my body to buzz with anticipation. I inhale deeply, committing the sugary aroma to memory. “Your challenging side is quite possibly what I love most about you.”
I softly brush my lips against hers, and a tingling sensation erupts inside me. She tastes sweet and sinful, and I savour the feel of her silky lips against mine. Her hands reach up and fist my shirt as she pulls me flush against her body, morphing this gentle teasing of lips into full-on contact.
Her breasts rise and fall against my chest as I cradle her face in my hands and swirl my tongue deep into her mouth, ravishing her with deep, drugging kisses. She moans softly, and my cock thickens at the sound of her desire.
Christ, I want her. I want her so bad I can hardly stand it.
Suddenly, she pushes me away. “I have to tell you something.”
“Anything,” I reply with a heavy breath, pulling her back to my lips so I can taste her again.
She kisses me for a long moment and then pulls away, sucking in big gulps of air. “My grandfather played football for Sweden.”
“What?” I croak and try to kiss her again until suddenly, her words hit me, stopping me short. “What did you just say?”
She chews her lip nervously. “His name was Erik Nyström.”
My eyes flare. “That’s the name of the famous player I was talking about earlier.”
Her head lowers with a sheepish look. “I figured this much.”
“He singlehandedly kicked England out of the World Cup and won five league titles and five Swedish Cups!”
She nods slowly. “I am aware.”
“And he’s your grandfather?” I ask for confirmation again because…holy bloody hell.
“Yes,” she replies, watching me hesitantly.
I run my hands through my hair, trying to clear my lust-fogged brain to understand what this all means. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
She pulls away and pushes her hair back, her strong bravado faltering for a moment. “Because you were already coming on so strong. If I told you who my grandfather was, it would have been too confusing.”
“Confusing how?”
She exhales heavily, closing her eyes before replying. “I…wanted you to like me for me…not because I love football more than breathing.”
My entire body feels pummeled with that one comment. “Wait, so you don’t hate football?”
“Hate it?” She laughs and shakes her head. “I love it more than I love sex.”
“Jesus fuck…you are too good to be true.” I pull her flush against me, ravaging her mouth, unable to get enough of her in this moment in time.
In a blind flurry, we find ourselves against an unknown building, kissing with so much fire, we could burn this city to the ground. She hooks her leg around my hip, grinding herself against me as my hands greedily explore her curves. When she groans into my mouth I think I might have sex with her right here…right now.
Suddenly, she pulls back, her lips wet and swollen and begging to be kissed again. “Wait, wait. This isn’t right,” she says breathlessly while looking up and down the street that is thankfully abandoned this time of night.
Fighting every part of my sexually charged body, I nod and help her find her footing before backing off and mourning the loss of her heat already. Fuck me, I lose my mind around this woman. Vilma deserves much more than being fucked against a bloody building.
She straightens herself and then grabs my hand, attempting to drag me down the street. “Come.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, watching her curiously, seeing her in a whole new light now.
“My flat,” she states through clenched teeth, her entire body tense with a sense of desperation. “Somewhere private.”
“Why private?” I ask stupidly while my eyes zero in on her frantic expression.
She turns on her heel and shoves her mused hair out of her face. “Because we need to have sex,” she rushes out