I moaned.
He moaned in response and gripped me harder, lifting me in the air. He released a low hum of approval when my legs wrapped around his waist.
I gasped in his mouth at the feel of him between my thighs, hot and hard—really, really hard—pressed to my core. We kissed right there in my kitchen for an eternity, nibbling and biting and tasting and teasing each other. His hips moved ever so slightly, increasing the pressure of his erection behind his zipper.
“Chase,” I moaned against his lips and moved my hips.
His grip tightened and he pressed me against the fridge, allowing me to feel more of his hardness. So. Much. More.
A ringing sound pierced the air, but I didn’t pull back, didn’t stop, didn’t even care. Neither did Chase apparently, because eventually the ringing stopped. But we didn’t.
The ringing started again, and Chase’s shoulders fell. “We should probably be responsible adults right now.”
“Probably,” I agreed with a disappointed sigh.
“It’s the right thing to do,” he said with a small smile.
“Definitely that,” I agreed again. And then, I surprised myself by cupping his face and kissing him again. I nibbled his lips and sucked on his tongue until I was sure he would strip me out of my clothes and give us what we both wanted, right there in my kitchen.
But the damn phone rang. Again.
Chase growled. “I’ll get it.” He waited until my feet were on the floor to step back and reach for his phone on the counter, groaning when he looked at the screen. “My assistant. I have to go.”
I did the only thing I could, nodded at his words. “I’ll give you a ride back to your car.”
“No thanks,” he grinned. “I should probably walk off the effects of you before my meeting.” Without another word of whether or not we would pick up from that kiss later, Chase left.
Damn him, he left and I was still here, hot and bothered.
And hoping for more.
Chapter 12
Chase
Who knew one little kiss could bring a grown man to his knees?
I’ve been kissed before, plenty of times if you want to get down to the truth of the matter. Sure, I was a nice guy. A good guy. The perfect southern gentleman who opened doors for women and pulled their chairs out for them, but when it came right down to it, I was your average red-blooded American male who appreciated beautiful women and hot bodies. And no one was hotter than Carlotta Montgomery two days ago in the middle of her kitchen.
She smelled like flowers and earth, like vanilla and magic, sex and mystery. Everything about the woman was a conundrum. She was prim and proper, a real lady, but the way she’d kissed me in her kitchen, pushed her curves against me and moaned into mouth was not what one expected from a prim and proper southern belle. The way she rolled her hips and growled her pleasure was seared into my mind, tattooed in my memories for all of eternity.
I couldn’t even say what happened. One moment she was staring at me from the other side of the kitchen, eyes glazed over with recognizable lust, lips slightly parted. The temperature in the room had cranked up, and the next thing I knew our bodies were fused together, seeking bone-deep pleasure with nothing but our mouths.
Okay, not just our mouths. Every single time I closed my eyes, all I could see was her legs wrapped around me, the warmth of her core cradling what I thought was an unfortunate erection. Only, instead of being offended or upset, Carlotta was into it. She’d ground against me, gave herself more and more pleasure at my expense. It was a heady experience, having a beautiful woman like Carlotta Montgomery using me like a scratching post and I wasn’t mad about it.
My only regret is that I didn’t stay long enough to see what came next, because I was sure that there was more to come.
“Hello? Chase, are you even listening to me?” CJ stood in front of my desk with her hands fisted on her hips and a scowl on her face as if she were my boss. “Well?”
I blinked and bit back my frustration that once again my assistant was ruining my fantasies of Carlotta. “What is it, CJ?”
“Oh nothing,” she shrugged in that mock casual way that some women did when they wanted attention. I smiled to myself. Maybe Pippa wasn’t so far off base, after all. “Just me trying to make sure you’re prepared for today’s meeting. Nothing important. At all.”
“Isn’t that your job?”
The question took her by surprise. “Well yes, which is why you should be listening instead of daydreaming.”
I leaned back in my chair, wondering if CJ was becoming a little too casual in her approach to our working relationship. “I’m listening now. What were you saying?”