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to be hearing from me.
    We stare at each other for a long moment, the air thick with tension. His hands still grip my arms tightly when something passes between us, something powerful.
    “You know what? Fuck it!” Then suddenly it happens, the one thing I have been wanting from him, for three long years. He kisses me, his mouth crashing to mine, hard, hot and demanding.
    Oh god . My knees go weak and a whimper escapes me at the first sweep of his tongue. His taste—his incredible, masculine taste—floods my senses and sets my body on fire. I waste no time giving just as good as I get. My fingers weave into his hair with a grip that draws a growl from him and I match him stroke for every desperate stroke, taking what I have ached for, what I have dreamed about for so long.
    Catching me off guard, he picks me up by my ass and walks us a few steps. I hear a bunch of shit crash to the floor before my back suddenly meets the cold, hard surface of his kitchen table. We never break the kiss, our mouths devouring one another, our tongues dueling a beautiful battle of frustration and pure, hot lust. My lungs crave oxygen but I can’t stop, I don’t want to, I need more. I rip open his uniform shirt and the tiny buttons fly all over the place. My hands slip beneath his undershirt and roam over the smooth, hard plains of his abs.
    With a groan he rips his mouth from mine, and starts trailing his lips down my throat. “You drive me fucking crazy!” he growls. “The way you torment my dick, prancing around this tight, little body of yours. Testing every measure of my control!”
    And I finally snapped it. Thank the Lord! Before I can put that thought into words he rips the top of my tank top down and immediately frees my breasts from the pink lace confines of my bra.
    “Look how pretty your tits are,” he croons, his dirty words intensifying the throbbing between my legs. “Even fucking better than I imagined.”
    I’m so drunk with desire that I can’t form a coherent word, let alone a witty reply. Cupping the swollen, achy mounds, he leans in and takes a tortured bud between his warm, firm lips. “Oh god, yes.” I arch into his mouth as the most amazing sensations flow through me. His teeth graze my sensitive tip while his fingers work my other, pinching with a force that has my pussy clenching with an intensity that hurts.
    Lifting my hips I grind against his erection, and whimper when I feel how hard he is. “Cooper, please,” I beg with a whimper. “I ache so bad.”
    Growling, he reaches down and cups me through my yoga pants. “Oh yeah? Has this sweet little pussy been wet and aching for me, baby?”
    His words send another wave of heat to soar through me. “Yes. So bad, and for so long,” I confess on a moan.
    “Good!” he snaps. “Because that’s what you do to me. You’ve been torturing my dick for years with that smart mouth of yours.”
    I falter, his words bringing joy to explode through my chest. Okay, so it isn’t I love you but at least I know he has been wanting me as bad as I’ve been wanting him.
    “Well then, what are we waiting for?” I reach for his pants, ready to get this show on the road, but he stops my attempt with a growl and locks my arms above my head.
    “No! The only one who will be doing the touching tonight is me.” I scoff at that and go to reach for him again, but his grip tightens on my wrists and his jaw clenches in restraint. “I mean it, Kayla. Only me, or everything stops now.”
    I stare at him and quickly realize he’s serious. I’m about to argue but he doesn’t give me the chance. Leaning down, he takes a nipple into his mouth again while his hand slips into my pants and his fingers glide through my wet flesh. A fiery whimper escapes me as he skims over my swollen clit just before he thrusts two fingers inside of me. I gasp and arch at the sweet invasion.
    “Ah yeah.” He groans. “As tight as I knew you would be. That’s because no one else has been here.