5. Scarlett
Chapter 5
Scarlett
His touch sends a heat down my spine that I never thought possible. I hate that I’m attracted to my father’s best friend, rather than men my age. But I am.
I’ve been secretly in love with him for a few years now. Probably at the same time my friends were noticing boys. I was different. I never noticed boys my age. My eyes only stared at Anton—a man I know is way out of bounds—way out of my league.
The man whose hand is still on my bare leg.
I place my hand on his and try to lift his fingers from my thigh, but he traps my hand underneath his. I glare at the side of his handsome face. His jaw and cheekbones are still taut, but there are shimmers of silver slicing through his black hair.
Why have I never noticed them before?
“I don’t think I can escape,” I say when he notices me staring. “And maybe you should keep your hands on the wheel and your eyes on the road.” I continue playing hard to get—that's as good as Hetty's strategy was.
A small smile tugs at his lips, and he looks down at our hands together.
We’re nearing his house when I think he is in some kind of trance, because he loosens the grip on my fingers, but rubs his thumb across my bare thigh. I successfully contain a quiet whimper, but not the goosebumps as they break out across my skin.
Why is he doing this?
Does he want me?
He’s nudging at the line—the forbidden threshold that we both know cannot be crossed.
He nearly did this morning when his hand was around my throat, his hot breath against my cheek. I know he was wondering how the hell he got me into that position.
All I was thinking was... kiss me.
The door to his garage rises.
There is a part of me that wanted the journey to last for much longer. Wanted his thumb to keep making those gentle strokes over my flesh. Maybe push the boundary and slide a little higher.
The sensible side of me needs a stern word and a freezing shower to wash away the burning sensation that covers my body.
“We need to talk about...,” he says as he takes the key from the ignition.
“Oh Anton, my mother told me it was okay to go out with my friends tonight. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you herself.”
“I couldn’t stand it,” he says and I spin to him.
He moves closer, his palm touches my face and our gazes lock. My chest is heaving, my breathing is rapid and I’m waiting just like I was this morning.
Is he going to pull away?
Should I move away?
“I want you...” he says and hesitates.
“You want me to do what?” I ask.
He is silent for a moment. My eyes lower when his tongue swipes over his bottom lip before he says, “The sentence was already finished.”
I raise my eyes to him. “Oh.” It’s about all my still-catching-up brain can muster.
Is this real? My father will kill me…Anton.
We can’t do this, regardless of what I want.
I turn around, breaking the contact. Then get out of the car and think of his words as I take a few steps to his internal garage door and away from him.
My heart is pounding as every nerve in my body fires at his honesty.
I want it, myself, but...
No!
My hand holds the handle of the door. “My father won’t allow it.” I can hear the sorrow in my voice, knowing that to be the truth.
His hands are on my arms, but he doesn’t turn me around—he pulls me closer to him until my back collides with his hard body.
We stand in silence.
I inhale. His cologne reminds me of when we danced together at my sister’s wedding and then at his niece, Piper’s wedding. When we danced, it was too close, so close my breasts rubbed against his chest.
The first time I asked him to kiss me.
The first time, he whispered. “One day.” Then pressed a kiss on my cheek.
I masturbated that night, imagining it was his hands on me as I remembered his face, his smell so vividly that it's now permanently imprinted in my brain with his promise —one day.
“I know, but tell me what you want. I’m prepared for the consequences.” His voice is rich and low and takes me out of my reverie.
No wonder Anton Hawthorn is successful. He takes what he wants without question, and without regret. And what he wants at the moment is me. And it’s what I’ve always wanted.
Can I give it up now?
My heart pounds against my ribs, wanting to tell him I want him. But I’m scared.
But can I take just one moment of him?
Will I yearn for him forever if I was to kiss him?
I turn in his arms when I realize he is waiting for a reply.
“Tell me I’m not too old for you.” His voice is almost begging me to give him the answer that I now know he craves. And I should tell him he is. But this is Anton, the man I’ve had a crush on for years. Hating when he brought his ex-wife to my parent’s home one Christmas. But loved it when I danced with him at my sister Jade’s wedding. Whispering to me how beautiful I was in my bridesmaid dress. No wonder I got myself off that night.
Finally, I shake my head.
He closes his eyes as he exhales, and when he opens his eyes again, he leans down, and his mouth is so close to mine. This time, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me.
His large, solid fingers cup my face as he stares into my eyes. My fantasy is coming to life. My body thrums and my nipples are tingling at what he is about to do. He stops and looks at me again.
Don’t stop.
He tilts my face up as he lowers his and with his mouth hovering less than an inch from mine, he says, “You are infuriating, but beautiful.” Our eyes meet as I take in that he called me beautiful. “Today is my ‘one day .’”
“One day,” I repeat before our mouths clash and I moan as he grasps my ass, hauling me upward and pressing me against the door. His tongue is in my mouth as the kiss becomes hot and passionate.
His dick grows hard and I wrap my legs around his hips, feeling how hard and big he is as the position presses his dick against my pussy.
For a few minutes, it’s chaos as we kiss. Our tongues dance. He licks my mouth, my lips. My fingers push through his hair, dragging him closer. Wanting more.
He tilts my face, deepening the kiss like he can’t get enough of me either.
Securing me between his body and the door. His hand skims over my hip, my waist, my tit, feeling every part of me.
His mouth kisses down my throat as he presses into me. “God, you smell so good, so sweet,” he says, inhaling my skin.
He holds my head against his neck, pulling me close to him and moving us from the door. Before dragging it open.
I’m still in his arms as he walks into the kitchen and sits me on the island, his hands on my thighs as he opens my legs and steps between them. Then we kiss again.
He slides me over the island to get me closer to him. Then he holds my hips still as he presses his cock against my panties. And suddenly it hits me.
Oh god, what am I thinking?
“Stop,” I say. “We can’t.”
He stops and looks down at me. Our eyes lock, and he is waiting. I’m not sure what for. For me, to change my mind?
“You feel it, too. Stop fighting it. Stop fighting us. I can see it in your eyes.”
His eyes lower to watch my chest as it rises and falls. The motion is too quick to be healthy.
“I want those perfect tits in my mouth. I want your pussy writhing over my cock, I want my cum inside of you, but first I’m loving kissing you.”
Oh, my god. Did he just say that?
“Yes, I just told you out loud how much I want you. Now stop this game because I can’t wait any longer.”
It’s the moment I decide he can hear my thoughts.
“Your body reacts to me, and mine reacts to you like no other.” His finger brushes over my cheek. My face is heating as his eyes trail over my body, down to my thighs as he pushes my thighs, slowly spreading them wider, making my short skirt rise even higher. "We can wait for everything else, but ask me to kiss you." His voice is deep as his fingertips trace over the flesh of my thighs.
My breath stutters as I try to talk, but his fingers being so close to my pussy make it hard to think, never mind speak.
“You drive me crazy. I’ve been thinking about your sweet little pussy all day. Wanting to taste you. Taste what is mine.”
"Kiss me." And then I do as he asks and push my mouth against his. "I want it…everything."
He grabs my thighs with both hands and drags me to him. My legs wrap around his hips and I now know how much I’ve driven him crazy. The feel of his rock hard cock against my sex tells me that.
He moves back a touch, enough to get his hand between us and his thumb strokes over my clit. Only the material of my panties stops it from being skin to skin.
I moan into his mouth when his other hand moves from my hip to the back of my neck, and he pulls me closer as he deepens the kiss. And with his cock pressed against my sex, his thumb on my clit and him dominating my mouth, my body is rolling toward an orgasm that I know I can’t stop.
“Have you let anyone taste you before?” I think that was what he said, but the thrashing of my blood in my ears reduces my hearing.
I bite my lip and shake my head.
He smiles. “Did you save yourself for me?”