Chapter 12 Jess #3
“Shit. Sorry.” The glass clangs as he sets it down on the countertop, and then he’s retrieving a washcloth from God knows where—the only practical thing about this kitchen is the lights.
They do their job well, and paint Nadir in the most perfect light as he scrubs my shirt, trying to get the stain out.
“I thought you’d be an expert when it comes to getting red stuff out of clothes.”
“Hilarious,” he says dryly.
“Maybe I should take off my shirt. That would make it easier, and we can run it under the faucet.”
“No,” Nadir insists. “That won’t be…necessary.”
Too late. I’m already lifting my hands above my head and showing Nadir my bra.
He tenses, eyes darting to my chest.
“Don’t look so surprised,” I tease. “You’ve seen them before.”
“Actually, no,” he says. “Not your—” He cuts himself off. “I need you to put your shirt back on, Jess.”
All I’m hearing is the sultry undertone in his voice. Secretly, he wants me to leave it off.
I trail a hand over my breasts, bringing them to his attention…like they’re not already the center of it. I tease a hand over my breasts, sliding a finger under my bra to graze my nipple. A moan shoots out of me, and now my body is exploding in tingles.
“Jess.” He chokes out a warning. “Put. On. Your. Shirt.”
“I need to clean it first.” I toss it over my shoulder and locate the sink. Jeez, it takes a few minutes. The size of this kitchen can’t be much bigger than my entire apartment.
I crank the faucet, running cold water under my shirt, scrubbing. Great. Thanks, Nadir, for ruining my shirt and my life. Or did I do that myself, and I’m simply looking for someone to blame?
I smell the bergamot in Nadir’s cologne and lose my shit. It smells like six years ago, like mistakes and first times and—
Nadir turns me around, and his eyes are right there, staring into my soul the magical way they did before.
My breath catches.
And then we’re kissing.
I don’t know who initiated the kiss, but now it’s happening. My back is being pressed into the sink, and Nadir’s tongue is slipping into my throat.
Holy…
I moan.
“Shhh,” he hushes, blowing his delicious breath my way. He silences me with another kiss, and thrusts his hips into mine.
Maureen is down the hall with my kids. Thankfully, they’re far enough away for us to have some privacy. But if I remember correctly, some men are supposed to be here soon to put safety railings on the beds.
“Fuck,” I gasp, feeling something hard prod my thigh.
“Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.” Nadir flashes me a dangerous look and peels back one of my bra cups. He releases a sound somewhere between a moan and a growl, and captures my nipple between his fingers.
“Oh my—”
His tongue slips back into my mouth before I can finish that sentence.
“I should know that you’re incapable of being quiet,” he purrs, tugging away the other cup to pay attention to my twin breast. “This is what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it?
” He circles my areola before pinching the nipple, causing me to squirm. “You’re wet. You’re always wet.”
“Is that what you tell yourself when you need an ego boost?”
Nadir cackles. “Don’t you think I can smell it when you’re wet?” He inhales sharply, making a point of sniffing. He inserts his nose between the valley of my breasts and works his way south to my crotch.
“I expect you to be wearing red panties. Perhaps I should make it a uniform policy,” he teases. He presses his face to my crotch and inhales again. “Red is my favorite color on you.”
Good to know.
He snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.
Fuck, I’m fully clothed and I can somehow feel his breath on my swollen clit. There are two layers between us. But the way Nadir is looking at me makes it feel like I’m naked.
He trails a finger down my stomach, scooping it underneath me. He runs the finger over my pussy, outlining the shape. “You’re wet through your jeans, printsessa.”
Then he’s flipping me around and slapping my ass. The sound echoes out into the kitchen. There’s so much space and so little furniture that the sound carries far.
Hopefully not as far as the guest rooms.
“Beautiful,” he purrs, working his way back up my body to plant a kiss to my lips.
And then he’s walking away, leaving me alone in my jeans and bra.
“Um…where the fuck are you going?”
Nadir gathers the empty wine glasses, abandoning them by the basin. “I have work to do.”
“You put me in this state. You’re responsible for getting me out of it.
” I clamp my thighs together as I watch Nadir walk through the kitchen at his own leisure, adjusting his cuff links.
God, he looks even more irresistible after being ruffled up a little, the hair disarray, the collar of his shirt upturned.
“I won’t touch you properly with alcohol in your system.”
“It’s bad form to leave me hanging,” I call as he continues walking away.
“And it’s even more bad form to touch a woman when she’s intoxicated.”
I throw my head back and groan.
Now he’s an even bigger asshole than before.