Sweet Tooth by Persephone Autumn

Author:Persephone Autumn [Autumn, Persephone]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781951477912
Publisher: Persephone Autumn

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MAX

I park in the shade, get out of my car and trek to the entrance of Wholly You. Walking through the front door, Tina greets me with the same overeager smile and hello she does every morning. Thank god I never fuck women from work. That woman has had a thing for me since day one. Sure, I am fine as fuck. But if I haven’t given you the time of day yet, it isn’t happening, sweetheart.

I sit down at my desk, fire up the slow as hell computer and check my emails. Same shit, new day. I answer the dozen or so emails sitting in my inbox then double-check my schedule. Today seems pretty light. A typical Monday involves several follow-up clients, but only half my usual fill the roster. More than likely, the others took vacation time with their family. Happens every summer.

Pulling client files for the day, I review those scheduled before lunch. As I peruse file one, my mind drifts back to last night. The folder rests in my hands, my elbows on the desk. I lose focus at the memory of Tami’s silky skin against mine.

Her skin so warm. Curves so dangerous, you have to take them slow. Sweet, succulent nipples. Her taste an unexpected addiction.

Although Tami is physical perfection, her body isn’t the only part of her that attracts me.

She is smart as hell and has a vivacious spirit. A magnetism that hauls me closer; an unavoidable gravity. And she holds an air of mystery.

Her arms around my waist as we drove the PCH flipped a switch in me. Heated me more than the summer sun. Her body molded to mine as if she always belonged there. The way she curled up next to me on the beach blanket; my heart never hammered at the idea of embracing a woman. But my heart misbehaves when it comes to Tami. And when we were linked, every atom and fiber and molecule inside me sang. Sparked to life. Glowed with brilliance. Felt alive for the first time.

No woman beckons my soul like Tami.

For a brief second, an idea surfaces. But I don’t know what to do with it.

Candy may be my private infatuation—I will never forget what happened in that small, private room. From the moment I laid eyes on Candy, I was balls deep in lust with her. Every line and curve of her body oozes sex and desire and primal need.

But she isn’t Tami. Tami is my personal addiction.

A twinge beneath my sternum follows this self-proclamation and I press the heel of my hand to my chest. A sensation I familiarize myself with. One I imagine won’t fade soon. But why?

Whenever Tami and I share the same space, everything becomes a conduit for the escalating energy between us. Last night, in her bedroom, that raw current had a life of its own. Heady. Fierce. Intoxicating. Addictive.

With every bow of her back, every rock of her hips, every stroke and claw and clench of her hands fisting the sheets, I matched her move for move.

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