Free London Bound by Jessica Jarman Page B

for it—was almost enough to make her come. Her panties were certainly soaked already.
    “I’m not saying no.” She pursed her lips, kissing his thumb. “I don’t want to say no.”
    Her entire body quaked, and she wished they weren’t in a damned pub, because she wanted nothing more than to climb over the stupid table separating them and climb him . Just wrap herself around him.
    “I’m still waiting,” he murmured. “I need to hear you say it, love. I need you to—”
    “Yes. My answer is yes.” She rubbed her cheek against his palm. “Yes, yes, yes.”
    Nathan tugged on her other hand, toward the outside of the booth. She slid across the worn wood and rose shakily. He guided her around to where he turned to sit on end of the bench and yanked her down onto his lap. Her surprised cry was muffled by his mouth. Holding her head firmly, he glided his tongue around hers, a sleek, filthy dance that had her toes curling in her shoes.
    “Nathan,” she moaned when he broke away and rested his forehead against hers. “Take me home...please.”
    “Let’s go.” He tapped her hip and helped her to her feet.
    She grabbed her purse from the other side of the booth then followed him to the bar where he settled their tab—quieting her automatic protest and offer to pay for her own meal with a hard look. It really was fucked up how a look like that could make her legs weak, but then, she figured pretty much everything about this man affected her, so why fight it?
    Stepping outside, they walked to their building in silence, fingers linked between them. By the time Nathan unlocked the door to his apartment, Meg was nearly vibrating with nervous energy. She walked past him into the living room and set her purse on the sofa. She didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know what to do... if she should do anything. He was in charge, after all. That was what she agreed to, what she wanted.
    So, she stood there, in the middle of the room, her back to him, listening to the door close and the lock click then the jangle of keys being set down. Suddenly, Nathan’s arms wound around her waist, and he pressed a kiss just below her ear.
    “As much as I want to lose myself in you right now, we need to talk.”
    She let her head fall back against his shoulder as his fingers stole beneath her shirt and grazed her bare skin. Her stomach quivered under his light touch, and she turned her face into his neck. Inhaling deeply, she groaned as his scent— his scent beneath the light clean hint of the soap he used—teased her senses.
    He smoothed his palms up her sides, her shirt rising with his movements.
    “Arms up,” he ordered.
    She obeyed, lifting heavy limbs, and the garment was swept up and off.
    “I thought we were going to talk,” she said with a breathy laugh.
    “Oh, we are.”
    He dropped kisses along her shoulders as he drew the straps of her bra down. When he pushed his hand between them to unclasp her bra, she looked back at him, questioningly. He held her gaze as her breasts were bared. Instead of cupping them, tweaking the taut nipples as she expected—as she hoped—he reached down and popped the button of her jeans.
    “Nathan—”
    The rasp of the zipper being lowered was unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Meg shivered as Nathan gripped her hips and began mouthing his way down her spine. His tongue tickled the small of her back as he lifted one foot to slide her shoe and sock off then took care of the other. She wiggled her toes into the plush carpet as he efficiently pulled her pants and underwear down to her ankles—no stopping to tease now, just a quick divesting her of the remainder of her clothes—again supporting her so he could get them completely off.
    “Nathan,” she tried again, her voice shaky.
    Hands back on her hips, he turned her toward him and nuzzled against her stomach with a happy hum.
    “Kneel.”
    With a choked whimper, Meg lowered herself to her knees before him. A small smile quirked his