Page 146 of Revenge Puck
That’s what she thinks is holding me back?
Yeah, that would be a problem if I gave a shit what HR thought. As it is, I’m a player. The team can’t afford to piss me off by enforcing bullshit corporate policies about who I’m dating.
“Let’s take things slow. This will work itself out.” I give her a small smile, knowing she loves my dimple and that it makes her weak in the knees. Crazy how easy it is to disarm her with something so simple.
She doesn’t smile back.
Drags her foot out of my hands, readjusts her position, and begins crawling toward me on the couch. Instead of sitting beside me, she swings one leg over mine and climbs over me, settling on top. Her knees bracket my hips, hands sliding up my chest until they rest on my shoulders.
Fingers lightly stroke the column of my neck.
Her weight sinks into me, soft and warm.
“This is so much better.”
Juliette kisses the spot next to my mouth—the sensitive corner of my lips.
Not a full kiss.
A tease.
“You want to take things slow?” she whispers against my skin. “How slow?”
“Real slow.”
I sit immobile, waiting to see what she does, this version of Juliette I haven’t gotten to see very often. A version of her that initiates intimacy and kissing and touching. Best not to move or I might spook her.
My hands fall to my sides, resting on the top of her thighs as she leans her tits into my chest.
Her lips trail along my jaw…tip of her tongue dragging along my ear lobe…I turn my head the slightest bit and our lips brush properly this time.Tenderly.The kind of kiss that doesn’t need heat to mean something.
She exhales into me, and it’s shaky.
Her mouth moves from my lips to my cheek, to the bridge of my nose, to my temple. Featherlight, butterfly kisses.
“Juliette,” I say quietly.
She pauses, breath brushing my skin. “Mm?”
I’m an asshole.
She pulls back to study my face. Her fingers are still tangled at the nape of my neck, thumbs brushing slow, absent strokes along my skin.
I shiver.
No woman has ever looked at me this way. Not. A. One.
Sure, they’ve looked at me with lust. Admiration. Calculation. They’ve wanted me—wanted my body, my reputation, the status that comes with standing beside me. They’ve liked being seen on my arm.
This isn’t lust shining in Juliette’s eyes.
This is…
Her hands slide down from my neck to rest over my heart, and I swear she feels it beating.
She must.
“Did you want to say something?” She strokes my hair as she regards me, her delicate hand cupping my cheek. I take her wrist, turning my face into her palm.
