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She nods tightly. “Fine.”
God, I fucking love the way she reacts every time I’m close to her. Kate’s normally so full of spunk and fire, and here she is all pretty and blush for me. That thought has my dick leaping like a jack rabbit. I love her strength and her smart mouth, but right now it’s her coyness, her shyness, that has me all up in my head for her.
“Fuck,” I hiss. This is a bad idea.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I ignore my bastard cock as I grip the hem of her hoodie and t-shirt beneath it, then drag the material up and over her head, careful not to touch any part of her. Gently, I tug the gathered material down her arm and pull it free leaving her in a sports bra and jeans. Her tits are encased in black lycra, and a little zip down the front has me begging to pull on it. I imagine them spilling out and my hands cupping them. I bet they’re a perfect fucking handful, and given her skin tone, I imagine she has perfect blush nipples too.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
If I wasn’t going to Hell before, then I sure as fuck am now.
“What the hell is that?” I blurt out, staring at her sports bra that, despite its plainness, is a thousand times sexier than any lacy underwear I’ve ever seen on another woman.
“What, these?” she points to her tits and smirks. “I’m pretty sure you’ve seen a pair of tits before, several pairs of tits given how much time you spend at Nine Lives.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t seen yours,” I mutter back, biting down on my motherfucking tongue so hard the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. Fuck man, I need to be better at covering up my thoughts when I’m around her. Whatever this is between us, it’s dangerous.
“Right,” she replies, chewing on her lip.
I swallow hard, hyper focused on the way her perfect white teeth gnaw on something I’d really like to fucking nibble. Trailing my gaze down over her flat stomach, I stare at the waistband of her jeans, my fingers twitching,itchingto touch her. “Your jeans?”
“It’s fine, I can manage,” she replies, waving me off and unzipping the zipper. She wiggles her hips, trying to shuck them off but drags in another sharp breath. “Ow, shit!”
Her face pales with the pain and yet again my hands fly out before I can stop them as I grab the waistband of her jeans. The moment my fingers curl over the material and my knuckles graze her smooth skin, she freezes, a funny little squeak releasing from between her lips. I look down at her, at the blush rising up her chest and my own fucking breath stills.
“Keep still,” I order, cursing myself internally.
“I am!” she retorts.
“Just do as you're told.”
“You’re so fucking bossy,” she grumbles under her breath as I crouch down before her and drag her jeans over her hips, which are far more womanly than they have any right to be.
“Quiet!” I snap.
When I catch a glimpse of her cherry red knickers, I have to turn my head to the side so I’m not tempted to do something really fucking stupid like press my nose against her slit and breathe in her scent. She’s only a few weeks away from her eighteenth birthday, but I meant what I said, I don't fuck women younger than twenty. I’m not a fucking creep. Not that it makes a fucking difference because I ain’t touching Kate.Ever.
In pure frustration, I yank a little too hard, sliding her jeans past her knees. She wobbles on her feet, squeaking in pain, and a growly noise rumbles up my chest. “Grab hold of my shoulders, Princess. I ain’t gonna bite!”
“Shame,” Kate murmurs, her fingers pressing against my shoulder blade, her voice filled with fuck me vibes that has me wishing I’d never stepped foot in this damn room.
“Princess…” I warn. She’s playing with fucking fire and I’m usually not the type of man to put it out. In fact, call me a fucking pyromaniac and hand me a can of petrol so I can watch that shit burn. With her I can’t. I just fucking can’t.
“Alright, calm down. I’m just playing with you,” she sasses.
“That wouldn’t be wise.”
“No?” She laughs, and that just annoys me more. “You seem to have a lot of fun playing games with me. Don’t like it when the shoe’s on the other foot?”
“For the record,” I grind out, refusing to answer her question because she’s fucking right. “I won’t be biting any part of you,Princess. Not now, not tomorrow, not next year, not when you reach fucking twenty…Never. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” she retorts, her nails digging into my skin as she lifts one foot out of the pooled material at her feet. Fuck, even her feet turn me on. I ain’t averse to giving a woman’s toes a suck and I bet hers are fucking delectable.
“Good.” I reach for her other ankle still encased in denim, feeling the electricity sparking between us as I guide her foot out of the material. Heat licks at my insides, and the tension intensifies a thousand fold. I should remove my goddamn hands from her right now. Except my fucking fingers are stuck to her skin as though glued there.
