Page 51 of Mr. Misunderstood


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He moves across the suite until my bare back presses up against the wall. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the rotating lights spin on their axis and illuminate the audience. The beam flashes through the suite like a police searchlight, and I feel it.

Maybe someone looked beyond the rows of empty seats at the front of the box and caught a glimpse of us back here.

Gavin’s mouth leaves a trail of kisses up my neck. One hand cups my bottom, holding me against the wall, while the other explores. But it’s not his touch that sends a rush of heady anticipation blended with a need that I can feel throbbing through the parts of my body he hasn’t explored yet—it’s the possibility that someone might have seen us. Okay, maybe it has a little something to do with Gavin’s free hand, currently teasing my left nipple.

My fingers reach between us, releasing his suit pants and guiding them down over his hips. When his pants reach his knees, I slip my hands under the elastic around his waist. The band snaps back against his skin.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” I whisper in his ear. “I might need your help.”

“It will come back to you.”

“I need assistance taking off your underwear and finding a condom.”

He laughs and gently lowers my feet to the ground. He strips off his shoes, his pants and his underwear before the next chorus. But I’m no longer listening to the music. Beneath those beautiful, chiseled abs stands a long, thick penis, the kind some girls dream about—or at least the kind this girl dreamed about for years.

Oh the things we can do with that.

“Wow,” I murmur.

“Keep staring like that and you’re going to make me blush,” he growls.

“I doubt that.” Then I hold my breath as he withdraws a condom from his wallet and covers himself. I lift my gaze away from his crotch. “I get it now. Why women hand you their panties. You look like a fantasy.”

He closes the space between us and I’m back in his arms. My legs snake around his body, holding him close.

“No pressure, though?”

“Oh no.” I reach between us and wrap my

hand around his hard length. With his cock in hand, I force myself to keep a straight face. “There’s lots of pressure. I’m not a big believer that sex against the wall leads to amazing orgasms.”

“Have you tried it?” His voice remains even despite the fact that I’m guiding his condom covered penis toward the goal.

“No.” I arch my hips toward him. “I’m hoping I will have a different answer soon.”

“You’re a virgin.”

“Not exactly.”

But this is my first time with Gavin.

I mentally shut the door on that stark reminder. Now, when I’m naked and he’s wearing a condom over his impressive erection, isn’t the time to make a pros and cons list of having sex with my best friend.

“Still,” he muses as he teases me, sliding forward until I can feel him starting to slip inside. “We shouldn’t rush this. Maybe we should take a step back. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“If this”—I gasp as his cock fills me—“doesn’t exceed my hopes and dreams, I’ll … I’ll make you take the dogs out for their early morning walk tomorrow.”

“Kayla, if I don’t exceed your hopes and dreams, I’ll take the dogs out every morning for the next month, and bring you breakfast in bed.”

I moan as he begins to move. He’s cradling me in his arms as if all those hard-earned muscles were made for this. Heck, maybe he spends hours in the gym just so he’s ready when an opportunity for sex against a wall comes along.

“I might lie to win the bet,” I mutter.

His lips press a kiss against my neck, then another and another, working his way up to my ear. “I’ll know if you do,” he whispers. “I know you, Kayla.”

I know you too.

But not like this. Not until now, right here, in this suite.

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