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After a moment, he smiled. “You didn’t argue with me.”
“No.” I took a shaky breath and toyed with the strap of my tank top. “I think you’re beautiful too.”
“I’ll accept that. But feel free to change that to macho or suave or outrageously handsome at any time.” When I laughed, he set aside the mug. “Are you wearing my bra and panties?”
“Why, Tray Knox, I didn’t realize you had a bra and panties.” Was that really my voice that sounded so…flirty? It must be, because he cupped my hip and drew me between his spread legs.
“You know what I mean. When you wear them, you think of me.” As if he were daring me to say no, he set aside the mug and lowered his mouth to my nipple through my tank. That one perceptive aqua eye stayed riveted on my face while he pulled the tip between his teeth, slow and sure.
“You think so, huh?” But he was right. I’d had no reason to wear them tonight, other than my desire to feel closer to him. Just like when I wore his coat.
“Know so. You imagine me taking them off of you, like I’m about to do right now.” His hot, mesmerizing gaze seared my skin through my shirt as he lifted it, inch by maddening inch.
God, I’d have to go lingerie shopping with Carly again. Voluntarily. Soon.
“Beautiful Mia.” He whispered it against my skin, over and over, imprinting me with his breath and the shape of his lips and his kisses. First through the bra then beneath it after he peeled the material away. Down my stomach, lower and lower. He eased to his knees in front of me, wordlessly asking permission.
I pushed off the workout shorts and the boy shorts beneath, my throat turning dry at the way he slowly, deliberately breathed in. So sexy. Sweat turned me on, and he obviously felt the same since I hadn’t yet showered after my workout.
Rocking my hips, I wound my fingers into his hair and pressed in close, inching up to my toes at his initial long, soft lick. Barely making contact. His groan rippled over my flesh before he returned for more, ramping up the heat in my core until I let out a wild cry. He answered me with another groan, pushing me deeper into that place that belonged only to us. Just his body and mine and the invisible currents that twined us together.
Normally he’d talk dirty to me. Not now. His mouth did the most unspeakably wonderful things, probing me in a way I’d never expected to allow a guy to do, never mind enjoy. I wrapped my leg around his back and dragged him closer, silently demanding more. Grinding shamelessly against his lips.
“Oh yeah. Tray. That feels so…” I ran out of enough air to formulate words, merely moans.
“There it is, that southern accent. Fucking love how you sound when you’re close.” He sounded half delirious, just like me. “I want your come in my mouth. Give it to me.” He sucked on my clit, firm and hard, drawing another frantic whimper from my throat.
When my knees threatened to give out, he locked an arm around them and pushed his tongue deep, over and over, commanding me to finally let go. Offering me no choice. I came apart, gasping, and he swallowed everything I gave with low rumbles of pleasure.
I pulled him up and attacked his wet, swollen lips, wanting to taste myself the way he’d tasted me. He wrapped me in his arms, so tight that my head spun from lack of oxygen. Or maybe that was from the aftereffects of my orgasm.
“You’re so goddamn sexy,” he growled. “I want you so bad I can’t think.”
Mindlessly, I rubbed against his thick, hard length, trying to quench the ache that was already building again. The one only he could soothe. Tonight there wasn’t a single part of me that could say no. My want was too huge.
My hands fanned his face, cupping his jaw. Holding him in place for the kisses he gave back as good as he got. I stroked his cheeks, savoring the rough stubble under my palms, then inched higher to tug at his eye patch.
He jerked back. “Baby, no.” I loved how breathless he was, and even more than he didn’t argue when I went back a second time.
“Let me see.” Heartbeat racing, I tugged off the patch and sucked in a breath. “It doesn’t look that bad,” I hedged, my voice breaking enough to prove me a liar.
He laughed drily. “Next time try not to gasp before you say that.”
I traced the puffiness beneath his thick row of lashes, then carefully explored the cuts that bisected his eyelid. His eye had sunk a little lower than the other one and had swollen so that only a bloodshot strip of aquamarine showed. My own eyes watered and I blinked furiously before he could see. “When’s your surgery?” I whispered.
“Two weeks from Saturday.”
The day after my fight with Giovanni. He didn’t say it and neither did I.
He cleared his throat. “My dad consulted a friend about my case. Supposedly it’s actually better to do the surgery when as much as of the swelling and inflammation has decreased as possible. Plus with my cold, they couldn’t do it right away.” From his tone, he didn’t appreciate the delay.
I couldn’t claim to be the biggest fan of his dad after he’d dismissed me like some bimbo. His mother wasn’t much better, but I had to think they’d do what was best for their son, especially in regards to his health. My parents would’ve died for Carly and me.
Actually, my dad kind of had. My being kidnapped had killed him, even if that hadn’t been the official cause of death. I knew it, and I was pretty sure Carly did too. We’d added that to our long list of unspoken topics years ago.
So many secrets. So many things off-limits. God, I was so tired of carrying all that crap around. I wanted to lay all of it down, to trust someone else with the burden.
I wanted to trust Tray.
