“Beckham, you need to sit down.” She reaches for my hand and stops, heeding my warning. “Let me get you some water at least.”

“Stop being so nice. Thought I made myself clear this morning.” Her kindness confuses me, and I sure as hell don’t deserve it.

“Maybe I should leave for the day. I can’t do anything right around you.” She zips around her desk and gathers her things, shoving them into a bag and muttering under her breath. “God forbid I try to be a decent human being.”

“Don’t go.” I need the distraction. She grounds me.

She stops shuffling about. “Maybe you should go home then. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be around each other today.”

“Why?”

“Because you confuse me. And you’re making me nervous, which never happens.” She stands two feet in front of me, head cocked, studying me. “And I don’t trust myself.”

“Don’t trust yourself?”

“You’re clearly two seconds from doing something we’ll both regret,” she sighs. “And I’m two seconds from letting you.”

Odessa’s hands lift to her face, tucking her hair back.

“Which is absolutely ridiculous because hooking up with you is the last thing I should be doing right now, and I–”

Without thinking, I rise and grab her by the wrists, backing her up against the wall.

She doesn’t protest, she melts.

I crush her mouth with mine, locked in a state of carnal survival. I don’t think. I just act.

Odessa moans against my lips, and I let her arms drop. Her hands slink around my neck, her fingers twisting into the hair above the nape of my neck. Impatient seconds pass before my hands run down her sides, cupping her ass and scooping her up until her legs lock around mine.

Thank God she wore a fucking skirt today.

With lips locked and tongues fused, I run my hand along her inner thigh, finding wetness at her core that sends an aching throb to my cock. She fucking wants me, and there’s no better turn on.

My kisses are generous, hungry, and desperate. I drown in the sweet cinnamon taste of her tongue as my finger slips under the crotch of her panties. Dragging a fingertip between her seam, I separate the folds and slide a finger inside her tightness. Her head falls back, leaving my lips. The soft flesh of her neck just above her collarbone welcomes me, and I reward her with teasing grazes.

Odessa’s hips buck against my hand, my thumb circling her clit. Her lips tighten as she struggles to keep quiet. I pull my hand from the most exquisite pussy I’ve ever felt and drop to my knees. The taste of her sweet arousal on my tongue fills a craving that runs much deeper than it belongs.

Yanking her panties to her ankles, she kicks them off and lifts the hem of her skirt to her waist. Hair falls in her face though I can still see the ‘o’ shape of her pretty lips as she loses herself with me at the helm.

Gripping her thighs, I run my tongue along her seam before swirling it around her swollen nub. Her free hand grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling it taut as she struggles to breathe.

She tastes of Heaven and sin, and devouring her transports me to a world where nothing else matters. My tongue explores her delicious pussy, making no apologies or concessions for the enthusiastic vigor.

“I’m getting close,” she breathes after a while. I’m not sure how long it’s been. My mind is colored with vivid urges that drown out all illusions of space and time. Her declaration brings me back to the moment, and I rise, licking her from my tongue. “Why’d you stop?”

She brushes thick strands of hair from her flushed face, gasping for air.

I press myself up against her, teasing her with my hardness. “You’re coming on my cock, not my tongue.”

Unzipping my pants, I pull a condom from my wallet and sheath my swollen girth. Hoisting Odessa against the wall, she wraps her legs around me again, her heels digging desperately into my back.

Readying myself at her entrance, I plunge myself into her as deep as I can go. Hands gripping the flesh of her curved hips, I bounce her up and down, thrusting harder and faster with each push. Her fingers press into my shoulders as her tongue runs the length of her bottom lip.

I fuck Odessa Russo.

I fuck her like my sanity depends on it because it absolutely does.

I have no intentions of stopping until her pink lips are screaming my name and begging for the one thing only I can give her.

Time doesn’t exist inside these four walls. The rest of the world can wait until we’re good and ready.

Odessa’s warmth consumes me, fills me in and out. Her pussy clenches around my cock with each throbbing plunge. I’m deep inside her, yet I need more.

In a moment of divine release, our gazes lock. We’re transported to a place outside of Manhattan and far away from the bullshit of our current situations.

But it’s not a moment for satisfied smirks and victory laps.

I lean in and deposit a punishing kiss, dragging her full bottom lip between my teeth. She deserves to be punished if only because she’s a smart woman who knew better than to let me fuck her all over again.

She collapses against me, gasping for air, and I hold her in my arms until her thighs relax and slide down my hips. Propping her against he wall, I take her by the chin and taste her lips one more time.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I half-whisper.

“What?” Odessa tugs her skirt down and finger-combs her wild hair all while wearing a delirious grin.

“Let me fuck you again.”

Chapter Twenty

ODESSA

I smell like him.

Leather and reckless intentions.

His taste still resides on my tongue hours after the fact.

Spearmint and dangerous desires.

Every inch of my body is alive. Reeling. Buzzing. Temporarily satisfied yet hardly satiated.

Beckham made everything go away.

An indulgent distraction.

I slip my key into the lock at precisely five-thirty, and the key slips right in. A metallic scent lingers in the air as if it’s just been greased. The lock clicks, and I push the door wide, my heart pounding and rightfully so.

“Hey,” I say, planted in the doorway.

Jeremiah rises from the sofa, his lips curled enough to show off the deep dimples I used to kiss in better times.

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” He drawls, placing his arms open wide. “What kind of question is that?”

“I called you.” I take a step inside, resting my bag on a nearby console. “You didn’t call back. You didn’t text.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He points to the kitchen table where a handful of paper bags rest. “Good eats. From the test kitchen. I made them bag it up so I could have dinner with my fiancé tonight.”

His declaration sucks all the air from my lungs.

Fiancé?

Jeremiah’s eyes search mine, and I’m sure he’s wondering why the hell I’m not grinning ear to ear.

I’m sort of wondering the same thing…

“We’re engaged again?” My delivery is slow, enunciated, as if that could help me to understand what’s going on. “Did I miss something?”

“Do you want to be?”

I don’t know anymore.

My hesitation must concern him, because before I realize what’s going on, he’s rushing across the room and falling to his knees.

With my engagement ring delicately locked between his thumb and index finger and his blue eyes crinkling, he peers up at me. He must’ve found my ring by the bathroom sink, which makes me wonder how much of this was forethought and how much of it was a random-act-of-Jeremiah.

 “Samantha Odessa Russo, I am a foolish man. I am an idiot, and I don’t deserve you. I may have been absent the last three weeks, but my heart was right here, with you, the whole time. There’s no one else on God’s green earth better suited for me than you. I want you to be my wife, Samantha. I need you to be mine again. Will you please make me the luckiest dumb ass in all of Manhattan and agree to marry me again?”