Right Where I Want You

by Jessica Hawkins

  “Don’t worry, he can spend hours looking for squirrels, even in the dark.”

  “Not that beast,” he said, a hint of gravel in his voice. Slowly, he pressed his lips to mine and inhaled. The night air cooled my skin as his kiss warmed me to my core. He stayed there—testing our chemistry? Savoring the moment? Awaiting my permission? I stilled, not breathing. It was something I’d fantasized about but had never thought would really happen—Sebastian’s hands moving into my hair, my heart speeding with anticipation, our mouths opening to each other.

  Chills spread over me, the kind that came with a skipping heart, like witnessing a perfect pitch down the center and the crack of a bat that sent a baseball over the fence. He rounded first base as our tongues met, one hand in my hair as the other grazed my upper thigh.

  He hesitated, his palm hot on my skin—and unmoving. If he didn’t steal second soon, I would.

  He released me. “Fuck, Georgina.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong? Nothing.” He looked almost pained as he got up and brushed off his pants. “Everything. If this were a normal date, right now’s about when I’d be asking to see your bedroom.”

  I stood and pulled my denim jacket more tightly around myself. “If this were a normal date?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t’ve come up. I don’t want to revert to the man in the exposé.”

  While Sebastian’s chivalry was appreciated, it wasn’t necessary. From my perspective, it felt as if we’d been on one long date since the moment we’d met. He hadn’t given me a goodnight kiss just now—it’d been an un-goodnight kiss. The kind that started a night, not ended one. “That’s not what this is,” I said. “I want this, and I have for a while. Arguing is our foreplay, and I’m ready for release.”

  “Yeah?” he said and finally smiled, dimples and all. “I want to hear more about that.”

  “As much as you frustrated me, I’ve been fantasizing about you from the moment you opened your mouth.”

  “Then you made it minutes longer than me.”

  “So if you think about it . . . we’ve actually waited a very long time for this.”

  He flexed his hands as if trying to stay them. “You make a good point.”

  I took off my jacket and tossed it on the couch. When the strap of my dress fell over my shoulder, I resisted fixing it. “So, if this was a normal date, what would come next?”

  “It’s no secret what would happen, Georgina. Use your imagination.”

  “I don’t want to.” I pretended to scratch under my jaw, grazing my fingertips down my neck. “Tell me what you’d do next. After all,” I teased, “how would it look for the article if you forfeited in the final inning?”

  “I thought backing off was the right thing to do. I’d assume your advice would be not to sleep with a girl on the first date.”

  “My advice is to ask. Don’t assume what pace she wants to go.”

  He tracked my hand at my throat, then blinked his gaze to my left shoulder. “What if she just told me her ex treated her like a pushover? What if she felt I was doing the same?”

  “Ask her,” I said, noticing the hoarseness of my voice. “Ask.”

  “Is staying here tonight treating you the way he did?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can cool it, Georgina. We can go at any pace you want.”

  “I’ve taken it slow with all my exes, Sebastian. It never made a difference. I would say you and I have taken it slow enough.”

  “Then . . . I’d slip the other strap of your dress over your shoulder.” He swallowed. “Every time you removed your jacket today, those damn straps fell.”

  “They’re flimsy,” I said, brushing the other one down. I wanted to fall against him, to feel his arms around me. “I feel very flimsy at the moment.”

  “And I feel strong. Like I might break you if I’m not careful.”

  I zipped the pendant of my necklace along its chain. Luciano had told me once I had pretty, slender hands, and that if I put my mind to it, I could use them to direct a man’s attention wherever I wanted. “You won’t.”

  “No matter what you wear to the office,” Sebastian continued, “I imagine what it would be like to take it off. Jacket. Blouse. Skirt. Stockings. Even your jewelry, like that necklace.”

  Sebastian had built a career on an adeptness with language, so it shouldn’t have surprised me his words aroused me as much as finally feeling his lips against mine. “You don’t have to imagine anymore.”

  He frowned. “I want this, Georgina. You know I do. I’m trying to be good.”

  I reached back and unzipped my dress just enough to loosen it. “And I’m saying you don’t have to be.”

  “What happened to being shy?” he asked.

  It was a valid question. I’d spent most of our acquaintance fumbling the line between bold and bashful. “I guess you bring out the George in me.”

  He groaned, covering his face with one large hand. “Why would you say that? I told you, I can’t fantasize about someone named George.”

  “What about someone named George who wears lingerie?”

  He slatted his fingers to peek at me. Turned out I could talk the talk—but did I, as myself, without a mask or a character to play, really have the guts to seduce Sebastian? For now, I left my dress where it was.

  He dropped his hand. “I like you, but I’m scared of fucking it up. I don’t want to treat you like a one-night stand.”

  “How do you know you like me if we’ve only been out on one date?” I asked, because in order for us to proceed, Sebastian needed to vocalize it for himself as much as I needed to hear it.

  “All day has been an adventure,” he said. “And ever since you walked into my office, I’ve been trying to be better. For you, or to beat you, I don’t know. A little of both. But in the end, you challenged me when nobody else would.”

  Something he’d hated me for. And now? The way his eyes roamed over my body, then back to my face, it didn’t look as if he hated me at all. Maybe he never had. Maybe he’d meant it when he’d said there’d been no game.

  “You make me laugh,” he continued. “You make me crazy with your messy desk and melting gummy bears and the fact that one of your video games requires a PlayStation you don’t seem to own.”

  I crossed my arms. “That’s why the plastic wrap is still on. I have three days left to return it.”

  “Meanwhile, you’re creating color-coded schedules for your dog and reviewing my team’s ideas and personal lives with a fine-tooth comb. I can’t figure you out—I never could. You make me mad in a bad and good way. Just because I didn’t ask you out until today—”

  “You didn’t technically ask me out at all.”

  “See?” he said. “You can’t just let me finish my sentence. You do that all the time, nitpicking over details, and yet you keep your sunglasses in a Ziploc bag.”

  “The cases are too bulky,” I said defensively.

  “But a plastic bag, Georgina? Really? They’re all scratched up.”

  I sighed and walked to him, my shoulders straight but my straps sagging. “Believe it or not, those are the reasons this will work—unless we both decide we don’t want it to. We were enemies first, but we still want to kiss. That means something.”

  “You were never my enemy,” he repeated.

  I’d certainly felt like I was, but I couldn’t say he was mine, either. “I’m not some girl you picked up at a bar or club, or wherever you pick up women.”

  “The theater,” he said. “Industry event . . . at the park. On the subway. Sometimes even the sidewalk—”

  “Okay. I think my point is made.”

  “The office.” This time, he came to me, eliminating any remaining space between us. Although I’d been doing my best to be brave, his closeness had my heart pumping and my brain fuzzy. “I’ve never picked up a colleague before.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Seriously? How is that possible?”

 
“Mostly because it’s forbidden.”

  For the first time, I remembered Vance’s warning in our initial meeting. Fraternization was against the rules. I didn’t have much time left at Modern Man, but I did have a reputation to uphold. Whether it was the beginning or end of an assignment, Dionne had a clients-come-first business model.

  And I didn’t think this was what she’d meant by that.

  Sebastian slipped his arms around my waist, walking us backward toward the bedroom. “Tell me you want this, Georgina.”

  I didn’t even hesitate. Maybe I should have, but this didn’t feel like being a pushover. It felt like taking control. “I want this, but—” As he leaned in to kiss me, I held him off with my palm on his chest. “I completely forgot that fraternization is, as Vance put it, strictly forbidden.”

  He stopped walking. “Don’t tell me now that I’ve given in, you’re having seconds thoughts.”

  “I’m not. It’s just . . .” If I’d thought earlier was a bad time to bring up Vance’s job offer, now was even worse. Even though I’d decided to turn it down, was keeping the information I had to myself enough to sour things between us? It wouldn’t matter if I was Aliana Balik, Sebastian’s celebrity crush—he’d still see me as someone who could put his job in jeopardy. I wasn’t sure that would change just because we slept together. “I just don’t like to break the rules,” I said.

  “Then I’ll break them for you.” He tightened his hold on my waist and lifted me as I gasped. He headed briskly down the hall as if I might protest again. “If Vance asks, I’ll tell him it was all my idea.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, my bare feet dangling at his shins. “I’m there to ensure you’re better behaved around the office, not worse,” I said with a sigh.

  “If I go home now,” he said, opening my bedroom door, “you won’t get to try bossing me around until we’re back at work in the morning.”

  “You like to think I boss you around because it gives you something to complain about.”

  “Trust me, since you’ve shown up, I’ve had plenty to complain about.” His eyes sparkled. His expression, part playful, part challenging, had to have mirrored my own.

  “Put me down,” I said.

  “Nope.”

  “You said I could boss you around.”

  “I said you could try.”

  “What are you going to do, hold me up all night?”

  Something different sparked in his eyes, darkening his gaze as my stomach dropped. “If that’s what it takes,” he said.

  I hadn’t meant it sexually, but the thought of Sebastian and I getting creative on our feet made me squirm. A few steps into my room, he set me down but kept ahold of me. He had to stoop to lower his forehead to mine. He looked about to speak, but as I sighed, he made a noise akin to a growl and took my mouth for a rougher kiss than before.

  I hugged his neck for support, to get closer to him, trying vainly to match his height. He pulled me up, lifting me to my toes, bringing me to my full height, kissing me until my legs were so weak, he was holding me up. His five o’clock shadow scraped in the best way. I sucked his bottom lip between my teeth, and he answered by biting mine.

  Bruno whined from the doorway, and I pulled away, gasping.

  “Georgina,” Sebastian warned. “If he thinks my BDE was threatening before—”

  “I’ll handle it,” I said, wiggling out of Sebastian’s grasp. I squatted to Bruno’s level, scratching behind his ears. “Listen, buddy. You know you’re my number one guy, but tonight, you’re on the couch.”

  Bruno put his paw on my knee with a groan.

  “Anthro—” Sebastian coughed into his fist, “—pomorphizing.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” I said to Bruno. “I know you understand.” Well, Bruno at least knew the word couch since Neal had screamed at him to get off of it enough times for Bruno to think he was in trouble. Guilt panged in my chest sending Bruno away. He’d only ever slept in the living room when I was out of town. Neal or Luciano would send me a picture of Bruno in the entryway, waiting for me to come home. But this was the only way Sebastian and I would get any privacy.

  I led Bruno out by the collar and shut the door on him. Before I’d even turned around, Sebastian was at my back, lifting my hair off my neck to place it over my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll make it up to him. Promise.”

  His fingertips brushed my skin and stole my response. He unclasped my necklace and set it on my dresser, then slipped my bangles off one by one. With his cheek against mine, he said, “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you that morning in the coffee shop. I’ve had to wait weeks and weeks. I don’t want to wait that long to be inside you, Georgina.”

  I held my breath as I shook my head. “I don’t want that.”

  “Don’t want me inside you,” I felt his smirk near my ear, “or don’t want me to wait?”

  I no longer had any reason to deny my feelings for Sebastian. I wasn’t entirely sure how he’d made his way into my heart, or I into his, but it didn’t matter anymore. “Wait,” I said. “I mean, don’t wait. Option two.”

  “Say it, Georgina.”

  I bit my bottom lip where his teeth had just done the same. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

  20

  GEORGINA

  If Sebastian’s and my earlier kiss had been the first stop on a home run, our second kiss was a race to home plate. I turned, rose onto the balls of my feet, and brought his mouth to mine a second before he hoisted me up to press my back against the door. My legs circled his waist, our tongues meeting quickly, lashing and sparring like practiced enemies.

  He gripped the outside of my thigh with one hand and slid the other up my nape. “When’s the last time you were properly kissed?” he asked.

  He took a handful of my hair so I couldn’t move my head. He had me right where he wanted me. “If this is proper? Never.”

  “This is how you should always be kissed at the end of a date . . .” He nudged his nose against my cheek and took my earlobe between his teeth. “Hard. Hungry.”

  Pinching that small, soft flesh sent an electric current down between my legs. “Then we should go on more dates.”

  He groaned and sucked the spot he’d just bitten. “You’re right, we should’ve done this earlier.”

  My dress, partly unzipped, sagged to expose the nude, lacy line of my strapless bra. “That would’ve been difficult considering we could hardly stand to be in the same room.”

  “That isn’t true, and you know it.” He pulled back to look me in the eye. “I’m just as turned on by you now as I was watching you around the office.”

  I exhaled, all breathy desire. “You watched me?”

  “How could I not? You took over, pacing in bare feet, always tugging the hem of your skirt down and your damn neckline up.” His hand moved beneath my dress, curving against the sensitive, neglected skin under my thigh. “As you’d lean over my desk to show me something and hold your blouse to your chest, depriving me a view of your gorgeous tits.”

  “Oh . . .” Sebastian wasn’t exactly known for his restraint, but even when he’d taken aim, he’d always been polite about it. To hear his unfiltered thoughts made me lock my ankles and move against him.

  “Yes, oh,” he teased, meeting my rhythm with his hips, making his erection known. “Oh, you know just how to get under my skin.”

  “It’s not one sided.”

  “No, it isn’t. I haven’t always been nice to you,” he said, dropping his voice until it was all gravel, “but I haven’t been mean, have I?”

  I didn’t want to fight anymore, and at the same time, all I wanted to do was fight. To give him what he came for. “Not yet,” I said.

  “Not yet?” He delivered a light slap on my ass. “How’s that for mean?”

  I bit my lip. How did I tell him he didn’t have to be nice just because we were finally getting along? “Not bad.”

  He dropped his eyes to my mouth. “You like it
. I wish I’d known. I’ve wanted to discipline those buns on many occasions.”

  I exhaled a laugh as I wiggled against him, his meanness as welcome as his teasing. He hissed, clasping my body flush to his as he took my mouth again. I pulled at the buttons of his shirt, my patience thin as he grew even harder between my legs. He traced the edge of my panties with a fingertip and caught my stuttered breath with his mouth.

  “I want to see you,” he whispered, gripping my waist to lift me. “Don’t deprive me anymore.”

  Reluctantly, I loosened my legs so he could set me on my feet. With a knuckle under my chin, he lifted my mouth, stooped, and pecked me. Before I could attempt to deepen the kiss, his lips moved to my throat. My collarbone.

  I only had to shimmy to let my dress fall.

  He groaned. Dropped to his knees. Looked up at me as he took my waist. “Here’s another should—I should not have called you anything as simple as beautiful. It’s too mild a word. You’re the stuff of dreams.”

  “I’m not,” I said softly. “I’m real.” I should’ve been self-conscious baring myself to Sebastian—after all, he’d spent the last several weeks scrutinizing my weaknesses and flaws, as I’d done to him. He’d been with many women, and beautiful didn’t describe them, either. Sebastian’s own magazine used words like modelesque, lithe, angelic, and even gazelles of the human race. But I only saw truth and admiration in his upturned eyes, and I couldn’t help but doubt my own fears over his compliments. “You are beautiful,” I said.

  “And you are pure torture. Show me, Georgina,” he pleaded. “Your bra barely holds them in, they’re so fucking perfect.”

  As I undid the hook, he reached up and took the bra. Wetting his lips, he thumbed my nipples until they pressed, hard and resolute, into the pads of his fingers. “So pink. So full. And god, are you inviting.”

  I missed the heat of his lips on mine, but I was soothed by a new kind of warmth—his mouth on my right breast, and then my left, teasing each nipple to make it rock hard, sucking until the sensation had brought me to the tips of my toes.