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“Oh,” I whisper.
“Yeah.” His hand moves from my hip to the small of my back, not forcing me forward, just holding me there. “Figured you’d like that.”
“You planned this?”
“I’ve had a lot of fucking time to think about you.”
My face heats, and he grins. Then his hand closes in my hair and pulls just enough to tip my head back.
The roughness of it hits me low and hard. My body responds before my brain can interfere, hips rocking once against his thigh.
Bitter goes still beneath me. “There she is.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Get cocky.”
“Little late for that when you’re rubbing that pussy on my jeans.”
The filthy bluntness goes straight through me.
“Bitter.”
His mouth comes to my ear. “You think I didn’t notice? You’ve been sitting across from me all damn day looking at my hands like you wanted them under your clothes. Then you whisper permission at me like I ain’t spent the last twenty-four hours trying not to think about how wet I could get you.”
My hips move again, slowly this time. Deliberately. His breath catches, and that feels like power, so I do it again.
The seam of my shorts rubs exactly where I need it, and the pressure of his thigh underneath turns the motion into something dirty enough that I should be embarrassed.
I am not.
Bitter’s hand slides down to my ass and grips hard. “Fuck.”
My fingers curl into the leather over his chest, the rectangular ENFORCER patch sitting beneath my hand. I look down at it, and Bitter follows my gaze.
“This the part that’s supposed to scare me?”
His mouth curves without humor. “Patch ain’t what scares people.”
“What does?”
“Man wearing it.”
I trace the edge of the patch with one finger. “I’m not scared of you.”
Something changes in his face. Not lust. Not entirely. Something more dangerous.
“You ought to be a little.”
“Why?”
“Because I want things from you I got no business wanting.”
Before I can ask what that means, he fists my hair again and kisses me. Hard. Hungry. Possessive enough that every thought in my head turns to static.
My hips start moving on their own, grinding against his thigh while his mouth works mine. Every time I drag myself over the rough denim, heat gathers sharper between my legs. Bitter notices everything. Of course he does.
