“So, this place. You want me to meet you there. For coffee.”
“Yeah.” She angled her chin up.
It made him want to bite her, kiss her, hug her, cuddle her. That cocky, almost brash exterior . . . what did it hide, he wondered? Sweeping his thumb across her mouth, he murmured, “And just why are we meeting for coffee? You just like caffeine?”
“If you’re going to be an asshole,” she started.
He cut the rest of her words off with his mouth.
She’d answered his question. He’d just wanted a chance. Now, taking advantage of her already parted lips, he slanted his head and licked the inside of her mouth, sliding one hand up to cup her cheek, angling her head back.
With his other hand, he cupped her hip. Only her hip, because it would be so very easy to try for more.
Everything inside him pushed for that.
But he wasn’t going to rush this.
Not this, of all things.
He slid his tongue along hers, growled when she caught him and sucked him just a little. Dark, dirty little thoughts raced through him as he imagined her doing that to his cock. His fingers tightened on her hip and she swayed, leaning closer.
The sound of her moan pierced the fog and he forced himself to end the kiss, bit by bit. His heart was racing when it was done and his muscles were tight with the urge to grab, take . . . keep.