Rocky Ride (Thompson & Sons) by Vivian Arend Page B

the dance floor. “Come here.”
    Anna settled against him, one leg on either side of his as she pressed close. “Not even going to buy me a drink first, sailor?”
    “You already got my cock so fucking hard I can’t sit down,” Mitch confessed.
    Her dirty chuckle in response only stoked the flames higher. So be it. Mitch rested his hands on her ass and pulled up tight until there wasn’t a lick of breathing room between them.
    Music and voices blended together into the background as Mitch stared into her eyes. Anna draped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers teasing the short hairs at the back of his neck. The expression she wore couldn’t be considered anything but a smirk.
    “You’re looking damn pleased.” Mitch slipped one hand farther around to the center of her lower back. “I love the shoes, but this sweater has got to go. I’d prefer you in a short T-shirt so I can get my hands on bare skin.”
    “Just enjoy rubbing that soft fabric instead.” Anna hummed happily, her hip grazing his dick as she shifted position. “God, you are hard, aren’t you. Poor man.”
    “Jeez. Do that again, and I’ll flip you over my fucking knee right here, right now.”
    Her tongue darted out, leaving behind a shimmer of moisture on the pouting surface of her lower lip. “I don’t think so. I think you’re going to buy me a drink first. Then we can talk about fucking on our knees.”
    Mitch laughed. The song ended, and she dragged him to one of the tall tables lining the dance-floor perimeter. Easy conversation followed over a drink. Laughter and dirty talk. All the time, Anna was never so far away from him that some part of their bodies wasn’t in contact.
    He was going to explode if he didn’t take a breather soon. Or take her home and bury himself in her sweet body for the rest of the night. “Keep that thought,” Mitch interrupted their discussion. “I’ll be right back.”
    He hit the can, more to regain control than anything. After splashing cold water on his face, he dragged his wet hand over the back of his neck. Checked in the mirror only to see proof his expression was as hungry as his gut warned him.
    She did things to him he couldn’t control. Hell, things he didn’t want to control, and that was the trouble.
    Only three steps outside the door, he slammed into a woman exiting the ladies’ room. Mitch grabbed on tight, familiar soft material gliding under his fingers.
    “Shit, sorry.” Anna wrapped her fingers around his biceps as she regained her balance.
    It was too tempting. Mitch twirled her, crowding forward until her back hit the wall. “Time to pay a toll,” he quipped.
    Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue dipping between her lips. The front of his body pressed her to the wall, his cock nestled over the V of her legs.
    She gave as good as she got, writhing against him, her breathing picking up as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Mitch twisted slightly to one side so he could drop a hand to her leg, easing around and dragging his fingers along the soft flesh on her inner thigh.
    Anna gasped for air as he brushed her panties, thumb unerringly striking her clit. “Jesus, woman. You’re soaking wet,” Mitch whispered.
    “Mitch, oh …”
    He closed his fingers on the hard little nub of her clit again, pinching enough that her head fell back to the wall leaving room for him to attack her bare neck. He worked his way up to her ear, speaking quietly but frantically. “Take me home, or I swear I’m turning you around and riding you right here.”
    She didn’t get a chance to respond.
    “Ahem.”
    The shock of the sound pulled Mitch back from the brink of lust.
    Anna’s sharp gasp warned him more than the sight of the somewhat familiar man behind them. Mitch blocked the view as much as possible while he smoothed her skirt and allowed her to compose herself.
    The extra time to let his cock stop trying to leap out of his jeans was also needed.
    The man cleared his throat again.