The Rebound - Stefanie London Page 0,32

whisper.

“My office at work. I accidentally locked my stuff in there once and a colleague showed me how to do it.”

“You’re crazy.”

It’s quiet in here, but the bass from the show rattles something on the far wall. The vibrations create a beat inside the room and I reach for Presley, holding her against me. She comes without hesitation, hands sliding up my chest and hips pressing against mine.

“Spontaneous,” she corrects. “Okay, maybe a little crazy.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” It’s the most useless thing I can say—because I know the second she kisses me again I’m totally gone. I feel her lips at my neck, my jaw. I skim my hands around, betraying my words by cupping her ass and pressing her against me.

My cock is aching. Hard. I’m coiled like a spring.

“Why?” Something scrapes my skin—teeth, nails? I’m not sure. It’s pitch-black and my eyes aren’t adjusting to the dark. “Don’t you want to be here with me?”

“I do.” The words come out almost like a groan, because I know I’m shooting myself in the foot. I know I’m digging my own grave, making my own bed and every other bad-decision cliché I can think of. “But you’re...”

“Single.” The word sounds like a hiss of steam, and her lips brush my neck as she rubs against me. “Willing.”

The way she says it sends a bolt of heat straight to my dick.

“Wanting.” Her hands move again, tracing my chest but this time going down, down, down. Oh no. She runs her palm over the bulge behind my fly, cupping me. I hear the sharp intake of her breath and the responding flex in her grip. “Desperately wanting.”

“Presley...” My head is like a fog and suddenly I can’t remember why I shouldn’t be doing this.

“Nobody has to know,” she whispers. “It’ll be our little secret.”

Our little secret. The words are like a green light in my head and they unleash something—a surge through my veins that tenses my whole body. This is bad. Real bad. But so, so good.

“We won’t tell anyone?” I can’t have my father or stepbrother finding out about this—it will ruin everything.

“Hell no.” Her body freezes for a second. “Trust me, I don’t want anyone finding out I slept with my almost-husband’s stepbrother not two days after my wedding should have gone ahead.”

That comment should stop me—the red flags are flapping in the breeze all around me. But, for some reason, her words have the opposite effect. It clarifies just how bad this is, how inappropriate and stupid and wrong.

And that makes me want it so much more.

I close my hand over hers and encourage her to stroke me through my jeans. There’s a soft little gasp at my neck and I let my head roll back against the door. The smell of her lulls me into a pink haze—there’s something sweet and fruity on her skin, like peaches and strawberries, mixed with the dry champagne she drank earlier. The combination is everything, a tempting contradiction that has me by the balls.

She lowers my zip and slips her palm into my pants, feeling for the waistband of my jocks. Then it’s skin on skin.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

Feeling her hand wrapped around me is everything. I grit my teeth as I claw some control back. If I’m going to do something monumentally stupid, then I’m not going to blow it by coming all over her hand the second she touches me.

“You like?” She works me with long, smooth strokes.

“Is it not obvious?” My voice is ragged with need.

“Oh, I like the way you sound when you’re turned on.” She laughs, but the sound is muffled against my chest. She’s leaning her cheek against me, her warm breath puffing through the thin cotton of my shirt. I’m kneading her ass with one hand, the other palming the wall behind me as though it might help keep me upright.

I find the hem of her dress and slip my hand underneath, up the back of her thigh until I reach her backside. The underwear she’s got on is skimpy, and the lacy edge catches on my fingertips.

Presley’s mouth captures mine and I lean forward so she doesn’t have to rise up onto her toes so much. Her lips are soft yet firm, her tongue needy yet confident. It’s an intoxicating mixture and I can’t help but want more. Her nose bumps mine and she giggles, but the sound turns to a soft groan as I pull her lower lip between my teeth.

She’s