Excerpt
“Well…” I
stop to clear the rasp from my voice. “If there’s no picture of us together, we
should take one.”
“Good
idea.” He crooks his finger at me, unwittingly sealing his fate. “Come here.”
I put my
jacket on downstairs when I thought we were leaving, but I take it off now,
simply letting it fall. “I want you in the mayor’s chair.”
His eyes
stray to my pooled jacket, then tick to mine. “You what?”
“In the
picture. I want you sitting in the chair.”
“Oh.
Right.” He slides out the brown leather, high-back executive chair and drops
into it. “What about you?”
My bravery
slips. Whose wouldn’t? This powerful, gorgeous man sits before me, outlined by
the city he’s been elected to run. His thighs are thicker than my waist, his
sleeves caught up around his elbows. A strong man. A man of conviction who will
not be seduced unless he really wants to be.
Or is driven
out of his mind and can’t resist.
Before I
can second-guess myself, I move between his outstretched thighs and ease myself
onto his lap. “Addison.”
I send him
an innocent look over my shoulder. “Yes, Captain?”
His chest
rises and falls. Once. Twice. “Take the picture.”
The fact
that I’m playing with fire stops psyching me out…and begins to excite me. Maybe
it’s the gravel in his tone…or the big fists that come to rest on the desk.
No…it’s definitely the way he presses his nose to my hair and inhales. As if
I’m not going to notice. But I do. I do and it makes me braver. Makes me throb
between my legs.
“The
picture, Addison.”
“Sorry.” I
lean across the desk where I set my purse, taking my time digging through to
find my cell before pulling it out, searching for the camera app. All the
while, his muscles bunch beneath me, harder and harder…and that’s when I feel
it. His erection lifts under my backside, so thick and glorious, I bite my lip
to stop from crying out. I want to, though. I want to sob at the proof that
he’s physically attracted to me and at least I have that much.
My hands
are shaking as I lift the camera, my instincts screaming at me to grind down.
Elijah’s breath is pelting the back of my neck. Other than that he’s completely
still, though. But when I flip the camera around to selfie mode and get my
first look at his face, there isn’t a jury on the planet that would rule him
unaffected. His eyes are closed, nostrils flared, mouth open against my hair.
“You’ve got five seconds,” he says. “Take it, or—”
“Or what?”
Elijah stands up and takes me with him, my ass pressed to his lap, feet
dangling off the ground. As if I weigh nothing more than a child. It only lasts
for a couple mind-blowing seconds, though, before he settles me on the ground
behind his desk. His heat begins to leave me and I sense my chance slipping
away, so I twist around to face him. Still mere inches away from me, he pauses
with his head tipped forward, hands flexing at his sides. “We could be more
than friends.” After easing myself backwards onto the desk, I snag his necktie
and tug him closer, guiding his hips between my open thighs. “Just for
tonight.”
His laugh
is more like a rough expulsion of air, the scent of bourbon hitting me. “That’s
not how things work,” he says, his palms scraping up my thighs, twisting in the
hem of my dress. “Goddammit, Addison. You’re not supposed to tempt me like
this.”
Tempted.
He’s tempted. My blood cells crash together. “I don’t always do what I’m
supposed to,” I murmur, leaning up to bring our mouths close, a breath
separating them. “If I wasn’t your friend, would you kiss me right now?”
His eyes
fasten on my mouth, seeming darker than usual. Predatory. “You felt what you
did to my cock, sugar. You know the answer to that.”
Author Bio
Wall Street Journal 
Wall Street Journal
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