He seemed to notice because he nodded at that bar with a wicked grin. “Hold tight,” he said, and then he descended. It was a slow, teasing torture — his lips kissing up my thigh that was propped on the bench. He flicked his tongue over my clit just once before he was kissing down the other thigh, and I squirmed, gripping the bar so hard I wondered if I’d callous. Vince Tanev was on his fucking knees for me.
