Call Me Saffron (Greenpoint Pleasures) by Talia Quinn Read Free Book Online Page B

did it…” How to explain? “I got roped into it by my roommate. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m not a call girl. That’s why I didn’t respond when you emailed. That’s why I couldn’t see you again.”  
    “Because you didn’t want to admit you’d lied? Or because you couldn’t have me as a repeat client because you didn’t want to see me again?”
    Oh God. “Neither. Both, I mean.” I couldn’t look at him.  
    He set the globe down. “I thought about you constantly. Every time I spoke to Persephone, or even her lawyer, God help me. Every time I sat on my couch. Every time I sliced into an apple. I still do.”  
    He took a step toward me. I couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move.  
    “Are you saying you forgot me after that night? Are you saying you didn’t feel it too?”  
    I was wildly turned on. Aware of his heavy breathing, his dilated pupils. His smell. His nearness. My own heart beating wildly out of control. My groin throbbing like he was going to take me against the wall, and oh, I wanted it. Desperately. “I didn’t. I don’t.” My breathing gave me away. But if I told him the truth, I’d be giving him too much power over me.
    He knew, though. He brushed my lips with his finger, the lightest touch imaginable, and yet it was the most sensual contact I’d ever experienced. “If I kissed you, if I fucked you right now, would you still feel nothing?”  
    “Try me.” It came out in a near whisper. As if I was telling him a secret. And maybe I was, at that.  
    We stared at each other for a long, suspended moment, and then I grabbed him by the shoulders, or he grasped my waist, or we both moved at the same time, and then, thank God, then we were kissing. Lips smashed together, mouths open, bodies crushed against each other. Nothing gentle about this kiss, nothing tender. I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him closer, sought his tongue with mine, and wriggled my body as close as possible to his.  
    This. Him. Right now.  
    I fumbled at the fastening of his pants. He inhaled sharply against my mouth. Apparently he hadn’t thought I’d go through with it. But I wanted this so badly, I was shaking. Six long months living on the memory of one night. It wasn’t enough.  
    Thankfully, Dylan took over, unbuttoning the pants. I shoved them down his legs, exposing his impressive erection under a thin fabric covering. Thank God for the slit in his boxers. With a twist of my fingers, his cock was free. I slid my hand down the shaft, and he groaned.  
    “I can’t—we shouldn’t—this is crazy.” His voice cracked, a broken whisper.  
    I put my fingers over his lips. “Crazy. Yes.”  
    He grabbed my hand, sucking one finger into his mouth while his other hand reached down to my panties. I helped him pull them down. They dropped to the floor. Marie’s carpeted floor. The office.  
    We really shouldn’t be doing this.
    I didn’t care.  
    Dylan sucked rhythmically on my finger. The sensation was unbearably erotic. And I wasn’t wearing panties. And his cock was hard and hot against my belly, through my skirt. He gripped my ass with his large hands, lifted me up, and slid inside. I opened my eyes, gasping at the sensation, only to see him staring at me, fierce and hungry, and that made me even more turned on.  
    “Do you want me?” His voice was husky.  
    “So much.”
    “Then why?” He shoved into me again, and I rode the rhythm, the building pleasure, my insides clenching around him. “Why didn’t you want to see me again?”
    “I did.” I gasped again as he moved again, hard. Fierce. “I thought about you every day. Wanted to feel you like this.” It felt so painfully good. Shivers up and down my arms, shivers inside my belly. “Inside me like this. Fucking me so hard.” I inhaled. He watched me, intent, hungry. “So good.”  
    “Have you been with anyone else since?”
    “No. Didn’t want anyone else.” I tangled my hands in