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I suck in a breath, a rush of adrenaline roaring in me, and close the door as I go down, careful not to be too loud. The old steps screech under me, and I know there’s no way Haze won’t hear me coming. I sigh in relief when my toes meet the ceramic floor, but I don’t have time to fully appreciate that I made it down in one piece. Because I’m immediately pushed up against the brick wall behind me.
My heart lurches forward when a strong body traps me into a corner and large hands cage my hips.
“What took you so fucking long?” a voice rasps in the dark.
His voice.
I don’t reply—too focused on trying to breathe—but he doesn’t seem to want me to, holding me in place like he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he lets go. I’m about to speak when I feel his length digging into my stomach. I can’t help but smirk.
“Nice to see my picture had the wanted effect.”
He growls in annoyance. “I should punish you for being such a fucking tease, you know that?” His hands curve behind me and inside my shorts to squeeze my ass cheeks.
Two can play this game, Hazie.
My fingers fall to the hard bulge straining against his underwear, and I palm him through the fabric, causing his breath to hitch.
I lean in and whisper, “Do your worst.”
His reaction is instant. He takes a fistful of my hair and pulls my chin forward. He grazes the corner of my lips with his slowly to tease me, to give me a taste of what’s coming. His mouth latches onto my neck, kissing, licking, biting until my head falls back and I’m losing what’s left of my sanity.
“Haze, please.” I drop the act. Please don’t make me wait any longer. Please kiss me and put me out of my misery.
He stops for a second, like he’s considering whether or not I deserve his mercy.
Then he crashes his lips against mine.
I can feel my whole body drop with relief when our tongues collide. Finally. I kiss him back, the freezing wall behind me clashing with my hot skin. I still can’t see a thing, but I don’t need to. I just need to feel more. Way more. More of him. Of this. Of us.
Wrapping his hands behind my thighs, he picks me up into his arms, and I hook my legs around his waist, letting him carry me to his bed. I gasp in surprise when my butt connects with the coldest of surfaces. Wait. He didn’t take me to the couch. He dropped me on the washing machine. The cold as shit washing machine.
“What are you doing?” I screech, and a deep laugh reaches my ears. He doesn’t reply, tugging at my shorts and pulling them down my legs in one swift move. Then he says it:
“Laundry.”
His mouth crashes back on mine before another protest can break free. He kisses me hungrily, and I’m so eager for him I don’t even care that I’m freezing my butt off.
“Spread your legs.”
With a thundering heart, I do as I’m told, propping myself on my elbows and lifting my knees up as I brace my feet on top of the machine. Gripping my waist and pulling me forward until my ass hangs off the edge, he reaches for my shirt and grabs the bottom to lift it over my head. The cold air hits my nipples, and shivers flare down my spine. Haze stands back, admiring as much as he can see of me in the dark. I’m sitting there in my panties, legs spread and breasts out, but somehow, I’ve never felt more at ease. My eyes have adapted to the dark, allowing me to see his face: the fire in his gaze, his lip trapped between his teeth. And heaven help me, the look in his eyes makes me want to melt into a puddle at his feet.
His mouth finds its way back to mine, and he flicks my painfully ready nipples with his thumbs, sending jolts of electricity to my stomach. When his hand find my panties and he starts to strokes me, running his fingers up and down without ever really touching me, I lose it.
“Stop teasing me,” I whimper, wriggling around, and he immediately halts his motion, arching an eyebrow like he’s asking me if I know what I’m asking for.
Then he nods.
“Okay.”
I almost cry out when he pushes my underwear to the side and buries two fingers inside of me.
“Haze!” I bite down on his shoulder. He kisses me to muffle my moans, pumping in and out so fast that I clench around his fingers. I expected this to hurt, for the sudden thrust to feel uncomfortable, but I’ve never been more turned on and it shows. His thumb rubs rough circles in exactly the right place, his way of reminding me that I’m his, and his only. He keeps it up for as long as it takes, never once slowing down until my legs are shaking and he’s got me exactly where he wants me. His reckless pace becomes too much, and my back arches on
its own.
“Haze, I think I’m…” My words fail me, but he reads me loud and clear.
“Fuck, yeah.” He picks up the pace and strength of his circles, until my self-control depletes from my body and I come undone on his fingers. He mutes the sound of my unraveling with hot kisses, only pulling away once I stop shaking.
