Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)

by Meghan Quinn

I lean in and rest my hand on her bare thigh, sliding it inwardly as I say into her ear, “For your information, from the moment I first met you, I’ve wanted to fuck you. Don’t believe it if you want”—my lips graze her ear—“but it’s fucking true. Those lips of yours, I’ve wanted to own them. Your tits, I’ve wanted to worship. And your pussy, I’ve wanted to taste it.” Her breath hitches as I allow my thumb to move across her silky skin. “Every time I’ve run into you, every time I’ve made eye contact with you, or anytime I’ve been close enough to smell your perfume, I’ve thought about all the dirty, naughty, delicious things I could do to you. Dreamed about it. Wondered what it would be like to have you riding my cock, your tits bouncing near my face, your pussy pulsing against my length. So don’t for one goddamn moment think what I said was a joke. I’d never joke about fucking you . . . ever.”