tensed against her. “Only if I can stay.”
She kissed him then. She leaned up in the painful, beautiful shoes and pressed her lips to his. There was no “kissing him back,” no “waiting for him to make the first move.”
This was going to happen because she wanted it to. She’d wanted it for years and she was darn tired of waiting. That was reason enough.
“I’d like that.”
The next thing she knew, Chadwick had physically swept her off her feet and was carrying her up to her door. When she gave him a quizzical look, he grinned sheepishly and said, “I know your feet hurt.”
“They do.”
She draped her arms around his neck and held on as he took the stairs, carrying her as if she were one of the skinny women from the party instead of someone whose size-ten body was getting bigger every day. But then, she’d seen all his muscles a few days before. If anyone could carry her, it was him. His chest was warm and hard against her body.
Things began to tighten. Her nipples tensed underneath the gown, and that heavy weight between her legs seemed to be pulling her down into his body. Oh, yes. She wanted him. But the thing that was different from all her time with Neil was how intense it felt to want Chadwick.
Obviously, it’d only been a few months since the last time she’d had sex with Neil. Just about three months. That was how far along she was. But she hadn’t felt the physical weight of desire for much, much longer than that. She couldn’t remember the last time just thinking about sex with Neil had turned her on this much. Maybe it was her crazy hormones—or maybe Chadwick did this to her. Maybe he’d always done this to her and she’d forced herself to ignore the attraction because falling for her boss just wasn’t convenient.
He set her down at the door so she could get her key out of the tiny purse. But he didn’t let her go. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her back into his front. They didn’t talk, but the huge bulge that pressed against her backside said lots of things, loud and clear.
She got the door open and they walked inside. She kicked off the pretty shoes, which made Chadwick loom an extra four inches over her. He hadn’t let go of her. His hands were still on her hips. He was grabbing her in a way that was quickly going from gentle to possessive. The way he filled his palms with her hips didn’t make her feel fat. It made her feel like he couldn’t get enough of her—he couldn’t help himself.
Yes. That was what she needed—to be wanted so much that he couldn’t control himself.
He leaned down, his mouth against her ear. “I’ve been waiting for you for years.” The strain of the wait made his voice shake. He pulled her hips back again, the ridge in his pants unmistakable. “Years, Serena.”
“Me, too.” Her voice came out breathy, barely above a whisper. She reached behind her back and slid her hand up the bulge. “Is that for me?”
“Yes,” he hissed, his breath hot against her skin. One hand released a hip and found her breast instead. Even through the strapless bra, he found her pointed nipple and began to tease it. “You deserve slow and sensual, but I need you too much right now.”
As if to prove his point, he set his teeth against her neck and bit her skin. Not too hard, but the feeling of being consumed by desire—by him—crashed through her. Her knees began to shake.
“Slow later,” she agreed, wiggling her bottom against him.
With a groan, he stepped away from her. She almost toppled over backward, but then his hands were unzipping her dress. The gown slid off her one shoulder and down to the ground with a soft rustle.
She was extra glad she hadn’t gone with the Spanx. Bless Mario’s heart for putting her in a dress that didn’t require them. Instead, a matching lacy thong had arrived with the bra. Which meant Chadwick currently had one heck of a view. She didn’t know if she should strut, or pivot so he couldn’t see her bottom.
Once the gown was gone, she stepped free of it. Chadwick moaned. “Serena,” he got out as he slid his hands over her bare backside. “You are...amazing.” His fingers gripped her skin, and he pressed his mouth to the space between her neck and her shoulder.
Strut, she decided. Nothing ruined good sex like being stupidly self-conscious when he already thought she was amazing. She pulled away from him before he could take away her power to stand.
“This way,” she said over her shoulder as she, yes, strutted toward the bedroom, her hips swaying.
Chadwick made a noise behind her that she took as a compliment, before following her.
She headed toward the bed, but he caught up with her. He grabbed her hips again. “You are better than I thought,” he growled as his hands slipped underneath the lace of the thong. He pulled the panties down, his palms against her legs. “I’ve dreamed of having you like this.”
“Like how?”
He nimbly undid her bra, tossing it aside. She was naked. He was not.
He directed her forward, but not toward the bed. Instead, he pushed her in the direction of her dresser.
The one with the big mirror over it.
Serena gasped at the sight they made. Her, nude. Him, still in his tux, towering over her.
“This. Like this.” He bent his head until his lips were on her neck again, just below the dangling earrings. “Is this okay?” he murmured against her skin.
“Yes.” She couldn’t take her eyes off their reflections, the way her pale skin stood out against his dark tux. The way his arms wrapped around her body, his hands cradled her breasts. The way his mouth looked as he kissed her skin.
The driving weight of desire between her legs pounded with need. “Yes,” she said again, reaching one arm over her head and tangling her fingers in his hair. “Just like this.”
“Good. So good, Serena.” Without the bra, she could feel the pads of his fingertips trace over her sensitive nipple, pulling until it went stiff with pleasure.
She moaned, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. “Just like that,” she whispered.
Then his other hand traced lower. This time, he didn’t pause to stroke her stomach. His fingers parted her neatly trimmed hair and pressed against her heaviest, hottest place.
“Oh, Chadwick,” she gasped as he moved his fingers in small, knowing circles, his other hand stroking her nipple, his mouth finding the sensitive spot under her ear—his bulge rubbing against her.
Her knees gave, but she didn’t go far. Her wet center rode heavy on his hand as his other arm caught her under both breasts.
“Put your hands on the dresser,” he told her. His voice was shaking as badly as her knees were, which made her smile. He might be pushing her to the brink, but she was pulling him along right behind her. “Don’t close your eyes.”
“I won’t.” She leaned forward and braced herself on the dresser. “I want to see what you do to me.”
“Yeah,” he groaned, a look of pure desire on his
