The Best of Kristina Wright by Kristina Wright Page A

shadow of the arts and letters building. I saw his silhouette in the driver’s seat, could see the movement of his fingers as he drummed the steering wheel. William is an impatient man, especially where I’m concerned. The knowledge made me smile.
    I parked my car next to his and got out. The passenger door was unlocked and I slipped inside. “Hi. Miss me?” I could hear how breathless my voice sounded and I hated it.
    “Took you long enough,” he said, fisting his hand in my hair.
    “I’m having a party, William. It’s not easy to get away.” I was, in fact, ten minutes early. “But I’m here now.”
    “Yes, you are.”
    He leaned across the center console and kissed me. Hard. His mouth tasted of tequila and I sucked his bottom lip between mine, biting it gently. Finally, he released me and I leaned back in the seat.
    “You shouldn’t drink so much at my house. It’s not safe to drive,” I said. “It’s not safe to be around me, either.”
    He watched me, his eyes heavy-lidded, but not with sleep. “I can’t help it. All I want to do is touch you and I can’t. So I drink.”
    It was a familiar argument. A familiar situation. I kept coming back for more, unwilling to lose this feeling. “Be careful next time,” I admonished. “Brad wasn’t too happy to have you pawing at me.”
    “Poor Brad,” he said. “Maybe if he wasn’t fucking his assistant he’d notice you’re in love with me.”
    I wished I had never told William about Brad’s infatuation with his paralegal. I couldn’t prove they were sleeping together, but the truth was I didn’t much care. As long as I had William, Brad’s extracurricular activities held no power over me.
    “What about you?” I taunted. “How would you feel if Rachel was with someone else right now, knowing you’ll be home any minute and so hot to get fucked she’s willing to risk it?”
    His eyes widened. “It would never happen.”
    “What if it did?”
    “I’d leave her.”
    I shook my head, closing my eyes. “Hypocrite. You can fuck other people and she can’t?”
    He reached for my hand, lacing my fingers with his. “I don’t fuck other people. I’m in love with you.”
    “You fuck me.”
    “Yes. And you love it.”
    I opened my eyes and started at him. “Hypocrite,” I said again.
    “But you love me.”
    It was true. I did love him. I just didn’t like him very much.
    “Kiss me,” he said.
    I obeyed because I wanted to, leaning across the console once more to wrap my hands around his neck and kiss him. We sat like that, separated from the waist down, kissing and touching each other until the windows fogged and I was squirming in my seat.
    “You are so beautiful,” he said. He stroked my hair, trailing his fingers down the collar of my blouse to the swell of my breasts. “I need you.”
    I reached for his belt, half leaning across the seat as I undid the buckle, then unfastened his pants. He leaned back, letting me unzip him, pulling his erection free of his pants. He was rigid, thick, ready. I whimpered softly as I leaned over him and sucked the head of his cock between my lips. I licked him gently, tasting his arousal, that familiar salty-sweet taste unlike any other man I’d ever been with. I dreamed of that taste, looked for it in things I ate and drank, longing for it like a craving, a thirst I couldn’t sate.
    He twisted his fingers in my hair, guiding me slowly up and down the length of his cock. I sucked him greedily, hungrily, taking him as far as I could without gagging, then forcing a little more of him into my throat until I did gag and had to come back up. I sucked him the way I knew he liked, the way Rachel never did, the way it took to make him come.
    He dragged me off his cock by my hair, the slight jolt of pain making me whimper with need. “I need to fuck you,” he said, his breath coming in rapid pants.
    “I don’t have time,” I said. “Let me taste you. Please.”
    His grip in my hair tightened. “I need