I slowly raise my head. “You got something about having sex against walls and doors?”
“I got something about fucking you. Anywhere, anytime.Don’t ask me to explain it, ‘cause I can’t. All I can tell you is that my cock is rock-hard every time I’m near you.”
How do I reply to that?
“Even before, when I’m sitting in chapel surrounded by my brothers. When I’m supposed to be listening to every word my prez says, I’m thinking about sinking into that hot, slick snatch of yours.”
“In a weird way, I think you just gave me a compliment.”
“Abso-fuckin-lutely.” He cups my jaw with his broad palm, then angles his mouth to mine. Our tongues find each other, and something breaks inside me.
All the stress, all the fear goes into this kiss, and I know there’s no turning back. Bolt lays his body flush to mine, and I let him, loving the warmth of his body. The primal need he ignites in me.
He reaches down and wraps one arm around my waist, hoisting me up. My legs automatically wrap around his hips.
He breaks away from my lips and searches my eyes, then burrows his face into my neck. “Whatever we got here is fuckin’ sick,” he whispers into my hair.
I’m not sure if he means the overall situation of my father targeting me in a shoot-out, or the crazy out-of-control attraction we have for each other.
When our eyes meet, he looks as confused by his comment as me. In the next second, he spins us around, stalks down the hallway, kicks open the bedroom door and stumbles into the room. He twists and takes me down with him. When we hit the mattress, he flips me onto my back, then hovers over me. His eyes are still searching for some reason why, in any universe, someone like me and someone like him would be together.
“Shit if I understand it.” He mirrors my thoughts. “Already had a taste of you, and usually that’s enough for me.” He easesonto his knees, still appraising me. Drinking me in with his gaze. “One and done—except now, except you.”
He digs his fingers into the waist of my yoga pants and peels them down, then smooths his palms up my calves, anchoring his hands under my knees, pulling me closer.
A grin splits his hard face as he flips off my sneakers. “Remember the first time you had on them shoes with the red-painted soles?”
“Christian Louboutins.”
“I knew then you were different.”
I’m about to question his comment when he shifts my legs over his shoulders and dives in face first. My back arches off the mattress as his talented tongue laps at my center. I dig my fingers into his hair, moving with his mouth until my legs shake and my skin prickles in anticipation. Bolt makes it sinful and delicious at the same time.
When he sucks my clit, little sparks of light explode behind my eyes. Every pulse in my body concentrates on this act. He doesn’t stop until I ride out every spasm, and I realize I never knew pleasure like this. He lifts his head and throws me a sexy grin, telling me he enjoyed it as much as me.
I smile full out, and he laughs. “I’m guessing that was as good for you as it was for me?”
“It was excellent for me, but how was it good for you?” Brad always complained about going down on me.
“Fuck, I love eating out.” He smacks his lips.
I laugh. “Never heard it phrased quite like that.”
“Let me guess,Bradleydidn’t like goin’ downtown.”
I laugh again at the way he says Brad’s name. “You guessed it.” Then I sober. “I used to think there was something wrong with me down there.”
“Fuck, he must’ve been a real asshole, ‘cause, babe, thereain’t nothing wrong with you.” He cups me with his palm. “Matter of fact, everything is just about perfect down there.”
His words fill me up, and when I reach for him, he holds up his hand. Then he shrugs out of his cut, folds it and lays it on the end of the bed, then strips his t-shirt up and over his head.
I suck in a breath. I doubt I’d ever tire of the hard, sculpted sight of this man’s chest. The way his pecs rise and fall with every breath. The way his biceps flex with the slightest movement. And the ink only adds to the overall show of strength and pure male.
I reach for him again, and this time, he lets me undo the thick leather of his belt and the tab of his jeans. Before I grasp the zipper, I look up at him and smile.
He grins wide. “You like fuckin’ with me, huh?”
“Are you using that word as an adjective or a verb?”
