Diego by Tilly Delane

Kalina:
I’ve been lusting after this guy for months.
George ‘Diego’ Benson is the forbidden fruit I cannot have.
Not without putting my mission in peril.
Not without putting my heart in peril.
But then we look into each other’s eyes across the distance between us.
And look.
And look.
My heart is racing.
My clit is pulsing.
My insides are clenching.
And suddenly I’m tired of the charade.
I like this guy.
I like him a lot.
Once my job here is done, I will never see him again.
So just this once I want to be with him, completely.
And I lunge.

Diego:
Kissing her is like coming home.
Or how I always imagined coming home would feel like.
It’s relief and feeling safe.
It’s hot and sweaty and raw.
It’s warm and sloppy and comfy.
It’s leaving behind all pretence.
And a whole lot of tongue.
So much tongue.
So much hunger.
This girl is on fire.
For me.
Not for the danger, not for the perceived status, not for the money, but for me.
She’s not here to demurely please the boss and then cream off the top.
She’s here, in my lap, because that’s where she wants to be.
Where she belongs.