Be My One Regret

be my 1 regret / 17

~now~

SEX PLEASE.....it fixes everything.....

Brilliant blue eyes glisten at me from across the table. Baz raises his glass. "To the most beautiful dinner companion I've ever had."

My cheeks heat, and I raise my own glass. "And to the most flirtatious guy who knows exactly what to say to a girl."

The dim lighting of the restaurant doesn't hide his full red lips as they twist into a wolfish grin. "Whatever works right?"

Combusting with need, I nod. "Oh, it's working."

"Oh yeah?" His brows arch. "How much is it working?"

My insides flutter. Harder. Faster. Stronger. The tempting tease inches out all my angst. And I was relieved. The past week had been a cluster fuck. A rousing mess from complicated runs ins with Tucker to tense lunches with Tanner to heated phone discussions over work with my dad. A Bermuda Triangle of giant proportionate disaster. And one that I was in desperate need to escape from. I was sick to death of all of it. All the men in my life were assholes. Expectant. Demanding. Conniving.

Except this one. This blue eyed devil was different. And after weeks of holding out on me, I was more than ready for Baz to finally break from his good intentions and throw me up against a wall and pound the hell out of me until I was senseless.

Oh hell yes.

Heat flames between my thighs, and daringly, I slide my foot out of my shoe dragging it lightly up and down Baz's pant leg underneath the small table between us. His eyes narrow and his lips twitch. I sigh. "It's working so well, I'd like dessert. Just not here."

Bewitched eyes pin me as he raises his hand in the air. "Check, please."

An hour later,  and I'm sprawled out on the floor of his studio. A flickering fireplace competes for sexy ambiance with the many lit candles that were staggered around the room on tables and consoles. Clothes scatter in heaps. Fuzzy fur from the bear rug under me tickles my bare back. Warm breaths pour over my skin as deftly skilled  hands tug at the remaining fabric of my halter dress. Cool air whips over my exposed flesh as the slippery material slides away, and I arch up with a moan. He whispers softly kissing and nibbling a delicate path down and around my neck, shoulder, and breasts. It's light. It's charged. And I float. Drifting on the high of it. Of him. His hands. His mouth. His body. On me. Over me. Against me. Rubbing. Tugging. Kneading. And I growl with breathy want aching for more of his naked body.

A deep groan rumbles against my skin. "Do you like that?"

"Mmm hmmm." The wordless response slips between pants. And I bow upward seeking more sensation.

Not disappointing, Baz wraps an eager hot mouth over my breast sucking hard. And I whimper and purr arcing my body into the hedonistic feasting. I grip his head tugging at his hair. It's frantic and desperate. And stirs a growling chuckle as he pulls lightly away from my swollen damp skin. "My gawd...you're so responsive...where the hell have you been my whole life?"

Coolness tingles where the heat of his lips had been, and I whine from the loss of the friction. "I could say the same about you. What took you so long?"

Greedy blue eyes burn into mine. "I promise not to waste another second."

"Thank fuck." I pant out breathlessly.

Lips twitching, Baz plants a kiss on the under side of my breast. "I love that dirty mouth of yours. Makes me want to do wicked, wicked things to it."

"You do, huh?" I hold his eyes, and my inner thighs burn, writhe, wishing for him. I let go of his hair and glide my hands down his arms tracing up and down over the muscled flesh and intricate lines of ink. "Maybe you should show me."