That’s all I need.
I kiss her again and start for the door with her still wrapped around me.
She doesn’t give me a second to think. Her mouth stays on mine, hands in my hair, nails scraping over my neck like she’s trying to drag every bit of patience out of me.
It’s working.
We make it maybe five steps before I stop and kiss her harder, because, apparently, walking like a normal person isn’t happening anymore.
By the time I get to the door, I’m breathing like I just finished another race, she’s biting my jaw, and my grip on her thighs is getting tighter by the second.
“Ay, coño. Hurry up.”
“I’m trying, Mama.”
“Try harder,” she whispers, rolling her hips against the hard length of me through my jeans while I hold her tight against my chest.
“Keep moving like that and we’re not making it inside.”
She does it again on purpose.
Fucking menace.
I finally get the door open and kick it shut behind us. Her back hits it, and I’m on her again before the lock even catches.
I try to slow the kiss down, which lasts maybe like two seconds.
Then she pulls my hair, bites my lip, and whatever control I had left fucks right off.
Her hands are everywhere—my chest, nails raking down my stomach, and straight to my belt.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathe against her mouth, my grip tightening as she drags herself over me again.
Her lips brush mine when she smiles. “Problem?”
“Yeah.” I pull her harder against me, letting her feel exactly what she’s been doing to me since the second she climbed out of that car. “You took too fucking long.”
Her eyes darken.
“Too long doing what?”
“Giving in.”
She rolls her hips again, slow and deliberate, and every smart-ass answer in my head disappears.
“Careful, Mami.”
“Why?” she whispers. “You look like you can handle it.”
I laugh once, rough and breathless. “Keep doing that and you’re about to find out.”
I drag my mouth down her throat, and she arches into me so hard I nearly forget we’re still standing by the door.
There’s no fear left in her eyes now.
Just hunger.
Hot, pissed off, greedy hunger.