One Night of Sin

“Yep.”

A muscle on his face twitched in evident frustration, much to her amusement. And God, now that her gaze was focused on his strong jaw, she wanted nothing more than to reach up and touch it.

So she did.

He jerked when her fingers swept over the dark stubble on his chin, but he didn’t push her hand away. That was a start, at least. He stood there, eyes shuttered, shoulders rigid, as she stroked his jaw, but she knew her touch affected him because his breathing had gone labored.

The bristly hair on his face scratched her fingertips. A shiver skipped through her as she imagined it scratching other parts of her body. Her neck, br**sts, inner thighs. Holy hell, she couldn’t wait.

“You were right,” she murmured.

He blinked. “About what?”

“I’m not impulsive or free-spirited and I don’t go around sleeping with men I’ve just met. I’m a good girl, okay? I’m doing my master’s in psychology. I wait tables at a steakhouse on Charles Street to make rent and put myself through school. I pay my bills on time. I don’t jaywalk. My grand total of past lovers is a whopping two. I’d rather stay home and watch Top Chef than go out.” She offered a sheepish shrug. “So yes, good girl is my middle name. But…” Skyler rubbed her index finger over his bottom lip, and was rewarded by his sharp intake of breath. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be bad.”

“Is that really what you want?” he said roughly. “To be bad with me?”

God, yes. There was no doubt in her mind that Gage was exactly what she needed right now. He was her chance to break free of this annoying rut and let loose for a change.

“Yes, that’s what I want,” she answered, her tone firm. “So stop worrying about taking advantage of me, or that I’ll wake up tomorrow with regrets. I want this.”

She saw the resistance in his eyes chipping away, but wasn’t surprised when he voiced one final protest. “I’m too old for you.”

She mock gasped. “Oh my God. You’re fifty years old. I knew it.”

“Thirty,” he said tersely.

“Holy shit. You’re six years older than me?” Now she pretended to gag. “Gross. I feel violated.”

“Very funny.”

“Any more objections, or will you just kiss me already?”

Gage stared at her for what seemed like an eternity.

And then his mouth came crashing down on hers.

She gasped in delight, grabbing the front of his shirt and holding on for dear life. He was as dominating as she remembered, slipping his tongue between her parted lips with such skill and confidence she couldn’t help but be impressed. As his tongue teased hers in a hungry circle, he shoved one hand in her hair, and suddenly she was incredibly glad she’d worn it loose. She liked the way his long fingers threaded through it, the rough pull on her scalp as he grasped the back of her head to control the kiss. His other hand traveled down her body, curling over her hip and yanking her closer to him.

It was impossible not to moan at the feel of his massive erection. She wiggled her pelvis over it, drawing a strangled groan from his lips. He tore his mouth away, breathing hard as he met her eyes. “You are goddamn addictive.” His fingers dug into her hip. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, I am, and you’re not going to send me away, are you, Gage?” The taunt slipped out before she could stop it. Maybe it was the wild gleam in his eyes fueling her boldness. The desperation, the hunger. No man had ever looked at her like that before, and it made her realize just how much power she had. She had put that look on his face. She had caused that bulge in his pants.

“I would if I was smart, but I’m not,” he muttered. “I’m stupid and horny and I want you too damn much.” His mouth found her neck, hot and insistent as he sucked hard enough to make her gasp.

Her hands were shaking like branches in a windstorm, so she flattened them against his chest and was floored by the rock-hard mass beneath her palms. His muscles were carved out of stone, his chest so broad she felt tiny in comparison.

He kissed his way back to her mouth, capturing it in a blistering kiss that made her see stars. She registered the sensation of motion; her legs were moving somehow—no, Gage was moving her, backing her into the desk. She squeaked when her butt connected with something solid, and suddenly she wasn’t on her feet anymore. He’d lifted her up on the desk, sinking to his knees before she could blink.

“You want to be bad?” His tone was low, dangerous, thrilling. “Well, you came to the right place.”

She’d worn a dress again, filmy green material that hung to her knees, but now it was caught between his fingers. He slowly dragged the fabric up her legs, nostrils flaring when her bikini panties were revealed.

“Pink panties,” he mumbled.

She could barely speak past the arousal tightening her throat. “Is there something wrong with that?”

He laughed harshly. “Makes perfect sense. Good-girl panties. Because you’re a good girl, aren’t you, Skyler?”

She swallowed. “Not tonight.”

“No. Not tonight.”

Callused fingers glided up her legs, leaving shivers in their wake. He swept his thumbs over her thighs, then parted her legs in one fluid, deliberate motion.

Skyler peered down at him, mesmerized. She couldn’t believe she had a big, commanding man kneeling in front of her, his features taut with hunger and passion and…something else. Wonder, she realized. His gray eyes shone with wonder, like he’d discovered an unimaginable treasure he’d never expected to find.