American Asshole (Bachelor International Book 1) by Tara Sue Me

Author:Tara Sue Me [Me, Tara Sue]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781732405424
Publisher: After Six Publishing
Published: 2018-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Tenor

That would have been me. Mia shot me a teasing glance as she hopped into the back of our cab. At the time, it seemed like a great idea. The restaurant was highly rated, it had a beautiful setting, and I’d suspected if I got Mia away from the city, we could turn our attention to the ever growing attraction between us and to finally do something about it.

I’ll even admit I thought about stealing kisses along the pathway as we strolled near the river. What I had not ever once thought about was having the kiss interrupted before it could even happen.

Damn it. I’d been so fucking close to finding out just how Mia tasted, what her lips felt like under mine, and how her body would react when it came into contact with mine. She was a much better poker player than I was. I knew she had to be a little upset at the untimely appearance of the young family, but she held it together much better than I did. Or at least better than how I thought I did.

I glanced to my side. Traffic going back to the hotel wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been on our way out. However, it was still a busy city and it was taking longer than I wanted for us to make it back. Once we were there, alone…

Mia sat to my left, looking out her window. If I looked, I’d probably be able to meet her eyes in the glass, but I didn’t want to just yet. Her hand rested in the space between us and I let myself inch my fingers forward until her hand was completely under mine. I wiggled my fingers in between hers until they were interlocked and then I caressed her palm, right at the base of her thumb, making slow and sensual passes.

The slight hitch in her breathing was the only sign she gave that she was even aware I was in the cab. I smiled. Frankly, that wasn’t enough for me. I needed to know she wanted to explore this thing between us as badly and as thoroughly as I did. I wanted to know that I made her heart race and that she wouldn’t be able to rest or sleep soundly again until we’d given into it at least once.

Not that I was under any misguided allusion that having her once would be enough. I knew it wouldn’t be. Just as I knew we could both vow that once we returned to Boston we could pretend we left it all back in Atlanta, but that didn’t mean we wouldn’t remember. That we would forget the other person’s touch. It drove me mad that even with that foresight, I still wanted her with an ache that defied logic and damn it all, I wanted to know she wanted me, too. That she burned for me as intently as I burned for her.

I moved my hand away from hers and placed it on her knee.

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