Waiting For It - Allyson Lindt Page 0,4

in case—and waited for Luke at the elevator.

The silence we rode downstairs in was deafening.

As we stepped into the parking garage, he coughed to clear his throat. “Anne...”

“Yeah?” I didn’t pause in my stride or look at him. I couldn’t.

He loosely grabbed my wrist, and a fresh shock of desire sped through me as he spun me to face him. “I don’t regret what happened up there. I probably should, but I’m not sorry for kissing you.”

“Okay.” So not intelligent. “Me too.” Only mildly better.

The corners of his mouth tugged up. His half-smile was as sexy as everything else he did. “But you’re also one of the best employees I’ve ever had. And I’m not saying that because you’ve got incredible lips. You’re one of my best hiring decisions.”

“Thank you. I like working for you too. You’re a good boss.” The praise flushed me, but I could focus on the work parts of it and become a functionally vocal person again. I tugged free from his grip and kept walking. “Which is why I’m glad we stopped.”

“Sure.” He didn’t sound convinced. “But it doesn’t change anything else between us. I can’t have this awkwardness. We need to be all right.”

Easier said than done. “We’re fine.”

“Anne?” The I call bullshit was clear in his tone.

I should have assured him with more conviction.

We reached my car. I was both grateful and disappointed for the excuse to cut the conversation short. “We’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.”

“Okay. ’Night Anne.”

I gave him one last glance. The lighting down here was harsh—bright in some spots, dark in others to cast deep shadows, and a nasty shade of yellow—but he still looked amazing. Sympathetic, concerned, and fuckable, all at the same time.

“Night,” I said.

As soon as I hit the main road, I cranked my radio and cracked my window to let the cold air hit my face.

None of it erased the repeat in my head. The memory of making out with Luke like we were horny teenagers alternated between ending the way it had in his office and continuing as though we hadn’t been interrupted.

By the time I got home, my body was on fire with fantasy fed by memory.

I made it inside, and locked the door behind me. I’d purchased it when I started making good money, right as the market crashed, because I’d been convinced property was a good investment. Turned out my ex just wanted a bigger place I was paying for and he was crashing in.

. There were days when living in this big a house by myself felt lonely. Tonight I didn’t mind the rambling house. The solitude meant I didn’t have to worry about anyone walking in on me.

Sparks of desire danced under my skin, prompted by the images in my head of Luke gliding his palm up my chest, to tease me through my bra. My nipples, still rock hard, strained against cotton, begging for attention.

I dropped my laptop by the front door and stripped off my shirt, letting my hands roam where Luke’s did in my head. To tug down the cups of my bra and free my breasts. To knead, and pinch and tug.

The pleasure that spilled through me was different than me just feeling myself up. It was fueled by whispers of him. What if he’d come home with me?

I backed myself to the wall at the fantasy of both of us being too eager to wait.

He’d press into my body again, him dressed, me half-stripped down. Would he be gentle? God, I hoped not.

I swore I could feel his hungry kisses, devouring me. Gliding down my neck. Alternating with playful nips and the occasional hard bite. Sucking on my nipples until I squirmed at the attention.

In my mind, we fumbled with each other’s zipper, not wanting to break away from the kissing and exploration to give the task proper attention. In reality, I’d have to undo my own jeans.

When I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, his groan echoed in my ear. It was the kind of sound that said, I’m tired of ignoring this.

He’d shove my bottoms down as far as possible without breaking any other contact, and dip his fingers between my legs.

I mimicked the motion, and my body jerked at the new touch. I’d prefer his hand, but wrapped in fantasy, mine would do. I was already wet and slick, thanks to a night of better-than-should-be-allowed making out.

In my head, we were impatient. There was no more time for seduction.