Walker
The instant she opens the door, the thought of going to dinner turns into a bad idea. My eyes drift over her, taking in the little black dress that clings to her perfectly, showcasing her every curve. Her hair is styled with long curls falling over her shoulders, hitting right below the dip of her neckline. My fingers flex with the urge to run through the waves and feel exactly how soft it is. I notice she’s barefoot, and her toenails are painted a glittery purple. My eyes travel back to hers, and it takes great effort not to yank her into me.
“How’s it even possible that you’re more beautiful every time I see you?”
Her cheeks turn pink as her smile widens. “Come in.” She waves her hand in invitation.
I step inside and am immediately assaulted with a variety of scents. Cherry, vanilla, and coconut all fill the air from candles lit around the room. She sidesteps past me and walks to her living room, giving me the perfect view of her from behind.
Exactly like the first time I saw her, my eyes gravitate to her ass as it sways in that dress.
Fucking perfection.
“I’m almost ready. Give me a few minutes.” She starts blowing out candles and makes her way around the room. “I’m sure the smell is overwhelming in here. I always light these when I work and forgot to blow them out earlier.”
“Doesn’t bother me. What were you working on?”
“I had some things to finish up before tomorrow. It’s an occupational hazard to jump online on Sundays. It helps Mondays run smoother.”
“I guess fraud never really stops, even on Sundays.” I already knew she worked in insurance from what Marcus mentioned, but Friday night, I learned she’s a Fraud Analyst.
“Today, I caught up on reports. It’s a little boring, but I like it.”
“Somehow, I doubt anything you do is boring.”
The blush returns as she focuses on putting things in her small purse.
“Let me get my shoes and I’ll be ready.” She disappears down a hallway, and my eyes follow, enjoying the sway.
“Jesus, Scott, get it under control,” I mutter and try to ignore the twitch in my dick.
While she’s gone, I take in my surroundings, not surprised at what I find. Picture frames, knick-knacks, and books clutter her floor to ceiling bookshelves. Her oversized sofa extends on one side with a chaise lounge, and the whole thing is covered with colorful throw pillows.
Out of habit, I analyze her windows and doors for security and scowl when I notice the door’s deadbolt is one of the easiest to break in a robbery. This may be a nice townhome community with little crime in the area, but she needs a new lock.
I’ll mention it tomorrow.
Thoughts of the lock flee my mind when I hear her heels on the hardwood. My breath gets caught in my throat at the sight of her. The dress, the hair, the makeup, it was all a tease. The shoes are the killer.
One look at her legs in the crimson sky-high heels and all bets are off. She stops, her eyes growing when I stalk to her in two easy strides. One hand goes to her hair while the other circles her waist, pressing her close.
“Walker, what—”
“Not waiting,” I cut her off, the scent of strawberries becoming stronger as I lower my mouth to hers.
She gives a little whimper that dies when our lips touch. I skim my lips over hers gently, using the tip of my tongue to coax her mouth open. She responds by tilting her head and parting slightly. The second our tongues meet, I grip her waist tighter.
The kiss starts slow, her giving over control. She falls into me, her hand clutching onto my shoulder. The faint taste of mint from her toothpaste mixes with the strawberry lip gloss, and I slide my tongue deeper, wanting more.
Burning need takes over, and I bend, slipping my arm under her ass and lifting her leg. Her free hand circles my neck as I back her against the wall. My lungs sting from lack of oxygen, as thoughts of her naked body wrapped tight around mine as I devour her mouth and drive into her relentlessly take over, but I don’t stop, kissing her harder.
She arches her chest into mine, and my dick strains against my zipper painfully. My fingers dig into her scalp, holding her in place. Our mouths move more urgently together, both of us panting softly. Warnings fire off in my brain, telling me to reel it in before I lose all control.
Reluctantly, I pull away, tracing her lips with my tongue and placing small kisses to the corners of her mouth. My forehead falls against hers, both of us fighting to catch our breath. Her chest heaves against mine, her heart beat racing.
“Jesus, Emi,” I breathe out.
“Walker,” she whispers, barely audible.