Home > Sweet Surrendering (Surrender Saga #1)(31)

Sweet Surrendering (Surrender Saga #1)(31)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

“Let’s get out of here.”

13

This time we held hands in the cab on the ride to his apartment. He kept looking over at me and smiling, and I was getting the first date flutters again. I felt bad for abandoning poor Fin, but Sloane texted and assured me that he and Marisol had been deep in conversation and he hadn’t even noticed that I’d left. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t be going home alone tonight.

Lucas traced the back of my hand with his thumb, and it was so sweet that I giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re cute when you laugh.” The praise made me blush and giggle again.

“Stop that. My reputation as a bitch is going to be shattered if you tell anyone that.” He looked down at our joined hands.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He leaned closer and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll tell everyone at the office what a heartless bitch you are. Happy?”

I glared at him and he laughed.

“You’re cute when you do that, too.” He was exasperating. Why did I get in this cab with him again?

The cab stopped and Lucas paid the cabbie and helped me out, keeping his hand in mine.

“Hopefully I don’t have any mishaps with the key this time,” he said. We walked through the lobby and to the elevator, and this really did feel like a date. I just couldn’t decide if it was the end or the beginning of one.

“Shall we?” he said as the doors opened.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered and I knew he heard me.

“One last night,” he said, pulling me close and kissing me softly. Like a first kiss. Tentative.

“Okay,” I said as we walked to his door. He put his guitar down and released my hand before getting out his keys and this time there was no fumbling.

“Do you want the tour, since you didn’t get it officially last time, or do you want to skip it?”

I didn’t really have to think about that.

“Skip the tour,” I said and he closed the distance between us with one step.

“Thank God. I couldn’t keep my hands off you one more second.”

“So don’t. I’m yours tonight.”

Okay, so I wasn’t into owning or being owned. I was a progressive woman. I believed in gender equality. But honestly, I was ready to be his tonight.

“And I am yours,” he breathed into my mouth before kissing me. I took his lead and wrapped my legs around his waist and plunged my tongue into his mouth. He growled and backed up. I felt something new in his mouth and I pulled away from the kiss in confusion. He smiled when he saw my face and stuck his tongue out deliberately, presenting the silver barbell that pierced it before kissing me fiercely again, letting my tongue dance with his.

Fuck. Me.

Something told me that we weren’t going to make it to the bedroom. He crashed into the refrigerator.

“Bedroom?” he said, taking a quick break from my mouth to kiss and suck on my neck in a spot that made me grind my hips against the bulge in his pants.

“If you can get there,” I said breathlessly as I raked my hands on his back. Stupid clothes. Why must they always be in the way?

“I’ll try,” he said with a little laugh as he walked backwards with me toward the door and kicked it open.

“Can you get the light?” he said moving me near the switch. “I want to see you.” Well, ditto.

I flicked it with my elbow and he made his way toward the bed and I unhooked my legs from around his waist so he could lay me down.

“I only get you for this one night, so I’m going to make sure you remember it,” he said, and his words sent shivers up and down my spine.

“And I’m very much hoping you’re wearing something similar to that ribbon number from the other day,” he said as he straddled me.

“I guess you’ll have to undress me to find out,” I said, and I managed to sound a little sexy.

“I guess I will.” His fingers played with the edge of my t-shirt, teasing me before I put my arms up and he pulled it over my head. I swore he seemed a little put out that I had a tank top on under it, but when he removed that, his eyes got wide as he took in the bustier. It was pretty damn sexy, and I felt sexy wearing it, even though I couldn’t breathe that well, and my poor boobs felt like they were being squeezed to death.

“Lovely,” he said as he moved his hands up and down and then undoing the button of my jeans and slowly sliding them down to reveal the matching panties.

“I am very, very glad we turned the lights on,” he said as he joined his mouth with mine again for a deep kiss. I still had my boots on, but he didn’t seem all that concerned. He was still fully clothed and I was having a problem with that, so I reached for his shirt and started yanking it over his head. We broke the kiss long enough for me to get it off.

He really did have a fabulous body. I ran my hands up and down it as he went to work on my boots, pulling my legs up so he could unzip them and toss them to the other side of the room before removing his own shoes. Then he slowly inched my pants down my legs until they were off.

“You’re beautiful, Sunshine,” he breathed. I loved the way he looked at me. Almost as if he were afraid to touch me. Almost.

“Thank you,” I said, and then made a face.

“What’s that face for?”

“It sounded weird. I mean, it sounds stupid. Like I’m one of those girls who thinks they’re hot and everyone else does too. I’m not one of those girls.” He was laughing.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re adorable.” No. I was not adorable. I could not be adorable in this bustier. Sloane would kill me.

“Just get over here so I can take your pants off,” I said, reaching for his belt and using it to bring him closer.

“Yes, ma’am.” I froze.

“I will not have sex of any kind with you tonight if you call me ma’am.”

“Yes, sir,” he said and moved to kiss me.

“No, I’m serious.” And then he kissed me and pressed his hips against me and lost my train of thought. Belt. I had to get working on that.

I finally got it and started shoving his pants and underwear over his perfect ass. Ah, I’d missed that.

“As much as I love this pretty thing you’re wearing, I’m more fond of what’s under it,” he said starting to unhook the bustier.

“You’ve done this before.”

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