Playing Dirty

Twelve

What the hell am I doing?

The question crashed through the jumble of his thoughts, loud as cymbals and for the life of him, Ryan had no answer to that.

Correction, he did have an answer, just not the one he wanted to admit to his conscience right now. So he forced the question to the back of his mind and concentrated on the taste and feel of Sam's lips against his own.

Soft, pliant, with a hint of strawberries, probably from her lipstick. It was a deadly combination that went straight to his dick, rendering him fully hard in seconds.

Sam stiffened against him, and for one dreadful moment, he braced himself for a kick in the nuts. Hell, it was what he'd do if he where in her shoes. It was what he needed her to do, so he could prove to her he was really a jerk.

He needed this to happen, because hopefully, maybe she would then keep her distance, and no longer look at him with trust shining in her eyes like she had moments ago.

But then, she seemed to melt against him, her breasts crushed against his chest, hands rising to curl around his neck, a small gasp escaping her lips and he damn near lost his mind. He took advantage of her parted lips to plunge into her mouth, her tongue tangling with his, in a passionate dance, flaming a hunger for more.

This was no tentative exploring, rather an explosion of the attraction that had been simmering between them since that almost kiss in his office. The moment that had haunted his dreams for the past few days.

God! She tasted even better than in his dreams, all forbidden sweetness.

A sound filled the small space, and he realized the groan came from him. He tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her harder against him, his dick hard and throbbing against her lower belly, prompting him to grind against her, a sharp hiss escaping from the both of them at the pleasurable friction created by the move.

Every last iota of anger melted away, his frustration over his father's disregard vanished, to be replaced by white, hot need.

He reached down to graze his fingers against the place where her dress ended, and his fingers brushed bare skin. From the moment she'd walked into the boardroom wearing that sexy dress, he'd been filled with a need to slip it off, and worship her body with his hands and mouth.

Gathering the fabric till it bunched in his fist, he tugged, exposing more of her silky skin till the dress gathered at her hips. His hungry fingers traced patterns over her upper thighs, enjoying the little moans she made in his mouth.

Then, Ryan felt her tense, seconds before her hands, which had been resting on his shoulder pushed against him, demanding to be let go.

He obeyed, breaking the kiss and took a step back, and another, until his back hit the opposite wall and there was a respectable distance between them. His heart thundered against his chest, skin pricking from the loss of her warmth against him and he dragged in a lungful of air in a vain effort to calm his racing pulse.

Their eyes locked, hers wide with shock, dismay and the remnants of passion flickering in their depths. Lips, swollen glistening and parted slightly, and he clamored to taste her again.

He shook his head, in an effort to clear the lust filled haze that wrapped around his brain, turning his thoughts to molasses and waited for Sam to speak, bracing for a scathing condemnation.

Her eyes fluttered shut for a second, and as he watched, she dragged in a shaky breath and pulled herself together. When she next opened her eyes, her gaze was cool, but not before he caught a flicker of an expression cross her face.