Heat builds and builds inside me, lighting me up and making me so goddamn desperate for the next taste, for the next lick, for so much more than just making out.

I want to unsnap her bra and play with her breasts, feel her up like she wanted me to, like she felt me up this morning. I’d drop her down to the ground, bring her shirt over her head, and allow my tongue to wander. To taste her skin, to wait desperately to see what kind of sounds she makes. I’d find myself between her legs, licking, sucking. I want to explore her gorgeous body. Fuck, I want to feel those legs of hers wrapped tightly around me.

With every pass of her tongue across mine, that need grows stronger and stronger as a moan falls out of my throat.

Her grip on me grows tighter.

Her mouth opens wider.

And I take that moment to slip my hand past the waistband of her jeans, where I grip her ass just as Sanders calls out, “Time’s up.”

“Fuck,” I mutter as she pulls away, leaving me in a goddamn daze.

Lazily, I watch as her tongue drags over her lips, keeping her eyes on me the entire time.

Fuck me.

Fuck fucking me.

I’m turned on.

I’m hard.

I’m now desperate for more.

I feel unhinged, and at any point, I might just snap from the need pulsing through me for this woman.

“Next and last chair,” Sanders says.

Clearing my throat, I stand from the chair, adjust myself quickly, and then walk over to the last chair, wondering if this where we end up dry humping. I mean, we’ve built up to that point. I wouldn’t be surprised, and frankly, I’m kind of hoping for it.

“Okay, read your cards,” Sanders calls out.

I reach to the side, grab the card, and then read it out loud as my body buzzes from the kiss we just shared.

“Tell each other your favorite drink.” My brows knit together. “That’s the task? Tell each other our favorite drink?” I look at the back of the card, wondering if this is a trick. Where is the dry humping? Where’s the kissing and fondling? Where’s the “Get naked with your partner and have a good time”? “He’s going to make us go from making out to telling each other our favorite drink? Why?”

“Maybe because you’re parched after making out,” she says.

“Are you parched?”

She just shrugs her shoulders, acting so fucking nonchalant that it actually doesn’t settle well. Because we just made out, tongue and all, and she’s acting like it’s another day in the office. Like our kiss had zero effect on her.

That can’t possibly be true.

Isn’t she buzzing like I am?

Isn’t she ready to move this to the next step?

Doesn’t she want more?