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I shut him up with my hand over his mouth.
“It’s not been Theo that I’ve been thinking about this last week,” I told him bluntly. “When I touch my head, I think about that cute Anna hat you gave me. When I touch my hand, I thought about how you held it while you were getting a tattoo. When I use my vibrator, it’s definitely been your cock that’s inside me. Not some piece of plastic. Not some other man’s. Yours.”
His growl reverberated against my chest.
Then, without another word, I was up and moving toward the door.
He had his hands on my ass, and he was carrying me as if I weighed nothing more than a feather.
I gasped at the sudden movement, my arms going around his neck and my legs hooking around his hips.
He snatched the handle of the door up with a quick move that only had his hand off my ass for a half a second, then we were inside.
I could see a small light coming from the direction of his bedroom, and he followed the illumination taking long, fast steps.
“Shit,” he said when his foot slammed into something solid.
He stopped, cursed, then tightened his hand on my ass.
“Put me down,” I ordered.
He ignored me and hobbled toward the light, the area getting brighter and brighter until he was standing in his bedroom.
The light was from the closet, and it was bright enough for me to see the burning desire in his eyes as he laid me down onto the bed.
He followed me down, his hands clenching into fists and pushing into the bed on either side of my head.
I wiggled, unable to help myself, and felt him as well as saw him chuckle.
“Not rushing this,” he growled. “I’m taking my sweet time.”
Sweet time? That wasn’t something that I needed. I needed his cock inside me. I needed to come. I needed to watch him come. All in that order.
What I did not need was him teasing…
He trailed his mouth down my collarbone, pulling the sweatshirt down out of the way in order to do so.
My breath hitched.
“So impatient,” he murmured, moving lower and lower down the length of my body.
When his mouth came to where my belly button would be, he paused, then slowly lifted the material of his sweatshirt until my belly was exposed.
He went absolutely still at the sight.
“That’s sexy as fuck,” he said. “Why that?”
I looked down the length of my body.
“A lot of people I care about are officers,” I said.
The tattoo under his close scrutiny was a black heart with a blue solid line through it. A thin blue line representing my love for the officers in my life, and even those all over the world.
“You didn’t tell me you had this tattoo when I got mine,” he said.
I hadn’t.
Honestly, I wanted him to find it on his own. I wanted him to see it and think, holy shit, we’re meant to be.
His tattoo was a black star in the spot that I’d cleared of hair during my show and tell with Theo at my apartment. And bisecting the star was a thin blue line almost identical to the one that I’d gotten.
“I didn’t.” I paused. “I kind of wanted you to find it yourself,” I admitted. “And I thought it was kind of funny since you jokingly went to a tattoo artist and got a tattoo as your ‘I have something to do in San Antonio.’”
He moved forward and pressed his lips to my tattoo. Then moved farther down.
“I wanted to go with you,” he admitted. “I wanted an excuse. It worked, didn’t it?”
It had.
“Yep,” I gasped, loving how his lips were now trailing over the length of the band on my underwear.
I was so fucking happy that I’d decided to wear my boy shorts underwear to bed.
I’d even gone as far as to change into them once I’d gotten home from his place.
“I’ve dreamed about what you’d taste like,” he murmured, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on my lower belly. “If you’d taste sweet like cotton candy. Or like a tart apple, so juicy and…”
I practically lifted myself off the bed to place my mons against him.
“You’re wicked,” I found myself saying. “So. Wicked.”
There was no other way to describe it.
He made slow, sweet love to my mouth first, coming back up to me just long enough to claim a kiss. He followed that kiss up with a bite of my nipple through the fabric of his sweatshirt.
I bit my lip when he finally made it to the apex of my thighs, skimming his mouth over the lips of my sex through the boy shorts.
He pulled my underwear to the side then began to feast on me. “Do you think,” he said. “That I’ll be able to stop?”
Stop? Why would he stop?
