Page 15

“Mmm, I bet you’ve been thinking about my mouth nonstop, huh?”

“No.” His grunt is deep and oh so sexy.

I chuckle and nip at the swell of his bottom lip. “Liar.” While tugging on that tempting plump curve, I reach between us and cup the front of his pants. Oh, yeah, he’s fucking hard, and a sizable bulge strains behind his fly.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He hisses more than a little breathlessly when I squeeze.

Drawing back, I give him a little pout, then lean forward so that my exhale grazes his ear. “Aw, c’mon, baby. You liked my throat well enough once before. You gonna pretend you didn’t beat yourself to the memory of fucking my mouth?”

A ragged noise comes out of him. Guilty as charged.

“Go on. Convince me that you didn’t lie in bed fucking your fist, wishing it was me swallowing you down until your eyes roll back?”

With each word I whisper in his ear, he shudders, hips uncontrollably chasing after the firm glide of my palm. I fucking love that he can’t help himself. That he knows this is all kinds of wrong, yet he’s unable to stop the madness of being drawn together in the shadows.

“Well, aren’t you a naughty thing … desperate enough to be your sister’s sloppy seconds.” I kiss his neck and a curve of satisfaction plays over my mouth when he bites back a string of curses.

“You’re an asshole.” Flinn’s words are choppy, short of breath.

“Want me to stop?” I purr against his stubbled throat. “Want me to take my hand away … like this?”

The second I release my grip over his pants, he makes a feral noise and clutches my wrist. He prevents my hand from moving away, letting out a pained growl of frustration.

“Are you wanting something?” I tsk at him under my breath.

“I just—I don’t know, okay?” He swallows hard. “This is fucked up. You’ve been drinking. We should never have done what we did.”

“But you thought about it?” I push him. I push because I’m so fucking captivated by him and I hate that I can’t have him.

“I haven’t been able to stop … Haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”

“Makes two of us, cowboy,” I groan, sliding my hand that’s clutching his hat up to the back of his neck. With it, I hook him to pull his mouth against mine. All while continuing to rub him through his slacks with the other.

Our tongues slide as the kiss deepens, hot and wet and searching for the answers to why the fuck we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other. Slanting our mouths, I’m so painfully aware we don’t have long to remain hidden like this. We can only disappear for so long before others will come looking for us. And yet I can’t keep from kissing him and fusing our mouths together, to inhale every single rumbling noise Flinn makes.

“Brad …” he moans softly into my mouth, and I nearly fall apart right then and there.

“God, I love hearing you say my name like that.” No one has ever spoken those simple letters strung together with so much pure yearning and need.

It’s how I always imagined it might sound when I finally met the person who completed me. A breathy, rich, warm feeling, as the letters of my name dance on his tongue.

As I rub the heel of my palm over him harder, his cock grows more and more rigid. He’s so damn hot beneath me—every facet of this cowboy is entirely addictive. There’s nothing but raw, greedy desire and lust in control as I taunt him through the material.

I’m floating five inches above the floor, I’m certain of it.

Flinn gasps, feeding me a stream of throaty noises, and clings to the front of my jacket. I’m spun out of my head at how gorgeous he is and how much I seem to crave having him melt for me.

“Shhh. You’re being too loud.” I pinch his bottom lip between my teeth and hold him there.

“We have to … we have to stop,” he mumbles against my lips.

“Just a few more seconds.”

Flinn shivers and his hips jerk. The weight of his erection throbs beneath my palm. “No—you need to—oh, god—”

“Ffffuck. It’s like that, huh? Two minutes and you’re ready to blow your load. I don’t even have to touch you properly this time.”

“B-Brad,” he warns me. Voice hitching.