The Dare Collection August 2019. Christy McKellen

to rub the scent all over myself so I can wake up tomorrow and relive tonight.

      He pulls back and I’m left deprived of his heat under my cheek. ‘For telling me how my father helped you.’ The flash of uncertainty which momentarily crosses his features is so out of place, I almost convince myself I didn’t see it.

      ‘You’re welcome.’ I’m dying to ask questions. To press him for his confidence, but instinct tells me he’d disappear behind that controlled veneer quicker than the snap of a mousetrap. And the selfish, horny part of me is grateful I kept my mouth shut when I catch the intense look on his face a split second before his mouth descends and he kisses the air from my chest.

      I cling to the sleeve of his jacket with my free hand as I kiss him back, any thought beyond how good it feels to be able to do this with him abolished.

      He breaks away first, his chest heaving. ‘Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that since you stepped out of your front door.’ His lips brush mine again and he grins, almost apologetically. ‘I’d planned to draw out the anticipation, but you’re too irresistible.’

      I laugh, all my nerves forgotten, and wipe the smear of my lip gloss from his mouth.

      ‘Thanks.’ He peels his body from mine and I almost hear our combined sigh of regret as we head inside. He guides me ahead of him, his hand in the small of my back. His fingers slide to the top of my arse, caressing, sending snakes of delight down to the backs of my knees.

      I exhale through pursed lips as I settle myself in our discreet, booth-style table. Reid sits close enough that our thighs brush, his touch doing something wonderful to fan every flutter of excitement inside me so I’m desperate with anticipation. Not content with this, he spreads his legs in that way men sit, so now we’re touching hip to knee and I’m left deliciously curious as to how much space he needs to create between his thighs. My mouth dries and he presses his leg against mine in a very deliberate move.

      ‘Hungry?’ he asks, his thumb idly swiping back and forth on my bare shoulder where he’s casually slung his arm around my back.

      I shrug, the keg of lust inside me filling to capacity. ‘A little.’ How can he do this to me, inspire so much lust with just a look and minimal body contact? Clearly a year without sex is too long. Clearly my fantasies were spot-on and the long wait to have them fulfilled was worth every second of yearning.

      His stare hits me—seductive, bold, a challenge. ‘Did you get my text?’

      I nod, my brain fried by his heated eye contact, the scrape of his commanding voice and the reminder he wanted me bare and I willingly, almost giddily, complied. He’s taking my fantasies and adding layer after layer of extras until I’m certain I’ll combust from desire.

      His eyes dip from my face, travelling at a snail’s pace over my breasts and down into my lap, where my hands are clutched. ‘Good, because I’m ravenous.’ His eyes meet mine, and the flames in my belly reignite.

      I forget how to breathe, revelling in the beam of his attention, just like this morning, when any other Faulkner employee could have disturbed us. My blood roars so hard, I completely miss the waiter asking for our drinks choice.

      Reid keeps his eyes on me. ‘What do you say?’ He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek, fingertips grazing, in no hurry. ‘Champagne?’

      I nod, my mouth too dry for speech. Now he’s touched me, kissed me, it’s as if he can’t keep his hands to himself. I resist the urge to fan my face or douse my body with the chilled water on the table. I know I wanted this, but at this rate I’ll be a pile of ash before we’ve even ordered.

      When we’re alone, I gather some of my wits and clear my throat. ‘Just so we’re clear, I’ll be paying for dinner.’ He can control the sex—something tells me I’ll reap all the rewards tenfold—but I’m still a strong, independent woman. Of course, we may have to limit ourselves to the one bottle...

      Reid snorts. ‘I don’t think so.’ He inches closer, the heat in his stare constant, as if my suggestion carried negligible consequences.

      ‘Dutch, then? This was my idea.’

      Reid’s stare narrows, searching, and then he dips his head so his lips graze my cheek. ‘You said I could be in the driver’s seat, so why don’t you relax about the bill?’

      The feminist in me baulks, deciding next time, if there is a repeat date, I’ll put up more of a fight. Then I remember I suggested sex. We’re here because I made him a proposition beyond business. And I conceded control so I could live out the very Reid fantasies making me hot and achy and embarrassingly damp between my legs...

      Perhaps sensing victory, he grins, has the audacity to wink. ‘Get used to it. Besides, we have more pressing matters to discuss.’ His stare dances over my face, settling on my mouth, and he leans in so his lips brush my ear. ‘Let’s pick up where we left off this morning. You touching yourself, me walking in, watching, taking over...’ His voice recites the events as if I needed the recap, but it’s imprinted on my memory.

      ‘So, tell me, how else did I touch you in these early fantasies? Because I need to touch you again.’ His breath slides down my neck as he dips his chin and hums a sexy growl low in his throat while inhaling deeply.

       He’s sniffing me.

      I shudder as my whole body tingles. My mouth opens but no sound emerges—I’m so turned on I literally couldn’t speak even to warn him that the building around us was on fire. I check his expression, seeing the need I glimpsed this morning as I came back down to earth after my orgasm.

      ‘Here?’ It’s a croak. First his boardroom, now this restaurant... Perhaps he’s some sort of exhibitionist. Do I care? As long as the boundaries of our game are so beautifully delineated. As long as I get what I want from this, from him.

      He wets his lips and nods, his stare bouncing down to my mouth. ‘I can’t help myself.’

      I look down to where his hand rests on the table, his fingers impatiently drumming. I nod too, so overcome with lust, I’ve forgotten all of the words in my vocabulary.

      The other hand, which rests behind me on the seat, skates up my back and settles at the nape of my neck and then he’s tugging me forward until our mouths touch in a slow, sensual glide of lips and mingling of warm breath.

      I gasp as he releases me, nowhere near done with his particular brand of kisses, but he doesn’t pull away. His eyes are intense as he looks to the place his mouth has just been as if he’s just tasted the most delicious delicacy on earth and he wants more. His tongue peeks out and touches his top lip as he raises his hand and wipes a smear of lip gloss from my chin.

      Pressure builds in my chest. I suck in a breath, preparing to touch my mouth back to his.

      The waiter returns and Reid relaxes back into the leather beside me while I try my best to breathe normally and to not leave scorch marks on the leather.

      Fucking hell. Have I ever been kissed the way he kisses me—with such delicious dichotomy? Devouring and demanding this morning, lazily thorough while pressed against his car, and slow and sensual in this quiet corner, as if I’m on the menu and he’s determined to savour every bite. If I’d known it would be this good, perhaps I should have risked everything and thrown myself at him years ago.

      The waiter pours the wine at Reid’s request and then departs. I take a glug to settle my pounding blood before I lose consciousness and miss all the fun. I instinctively knew he’d be good...but this is a whole new level.

      ‘So what would you like to eat? The seafood here is excellent.’ Reid flips open his menu, eyes downcast, while his other hand settles on my knee under the table as if we’ve casually touched each other intimately a thousand times.

      Warm. Confident. Thrilling.

      Despite the way he touched me this morning, the intimacy is still alien enough that I freeze, the tingles from his palm print travelling up my thigh straight to my bare