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Making out with Haden Cooper—the biggest jerk to walk the planet—is not my wildest dream.
Yet everything about what is happening between us in this dark and secluded alleyway is the wildest thing to happen to me. Dreams and reality become a hazy fog. What the hell am I doing?
Purposefully, I move my hands toward my thigh, pinching myself in hopes that it’s all a dream, but low and behold, each pinch only causes me to scowl as his lips press hard against mine.
It was supposed to cause him pain. So why the hell is he kissing me back?
I try to pull away, but he has my body pinned against the dirty brick wall, and my head is telling me to kick the Jerk in the balls.
What the fuck is that thing my body is doing? Thinking about all the places where he could stick that tongue of his.
I bite his lip with slight force, coercing him to pull away, but his body is pressed hard against mine, and like ice, my body is melting under his touch. I know this is wrong, yet something is happening that excites me in a way I have never experienced. I loathe him. He is annoying, and his sole purpose on this earth is to push my buttons.
And he happens to be pushing the right ones.
His tongue is circling mine at a slow yet intense pace, teasing it enough to make me moan. I am unable to pull away now and surprise even myself with my hands moving to his hair, tugging it until he grunts in my mouth. These sounds are foreign, and the excitement is overwhelming.
I know I have too much pride to allow this to happen, and slowly coming to my senses, I make a proper attempt at moving my mouth away from his and using my upper body to twist out of his grip. Of course, it is fruitless, and with a forceful body slam, his groin presses against me so hard that I feel it throbbing, exciting me further.
Pulling away, his warm breath smothers the air between our faces.
“This,” he says, with a low rumbling growl, “is payback for smashing my face.”
This beautiful yet damaged face is only inches away from mine and so close that I can count the tiny freckles along the bridge of his nose. His lashes are long and curl just above his hazel eyes. Even as we stand in the dark, and I am heavily intoxicated, the color of his eyes has this shimmery light speckle that I never noticed before. Well, why would you notice? You’re too busy telling him to shove it where the sun don’t shine. So, no point giving him a bigger head, excuse the pun, and telling him how pretty he is. Give it back—jerk style.
“You deserved it,” I tell him, catching my breath in between his ravenous kisses.
“Then you, Malone… deserve this.”
Against the wall in the dark and dirty alley, he pulls my dress above my thigh, scratching my skin as he clasps his grip firmly on my ass. I beg myself to stop this madness, but the desire has driven me into such a blissful paradise that my body is in full control, not my head. His kisses are heavy against my neck as I arch to the right, giving him free rein to my sensitive spot. My body is sinking further, my pumps barely able to hold myself up with my legs quivering in anticipation.
It’s the alcohol making me want him.
It’s a rebound.
You want to forget Jason was with another woman.
You’re an idiot and will regret this.
What was that last part my brain was saying?
The frenzy in his touch drives me to move my hands inside his shirt, and his body, cool as steel, is sculpted with lean muscle. I want him inside me. The thought is dangerously exciting and very off-limits. I feel the ache inside me, hungry for him to fill me and take me to places that previously only existed in my wildest imagination, one that never involved him.
“You’re such a fucking tease, Malone. You know that?”
“I don’t tease, you’re just greedy and can’t help yourself.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he tells me, running his teeth along my lobe.
I can’t even hold a conversation here, not when his hands move into my dress and are squeezing my breasts in a desperate plea. His constant rub against my nipples is driving me insane, and I am this close to stripping in the cool night air, so he can suck on them like the hungry beast he is.
I lose my train of thought and giggle. Fueled by the alcohol, I struggle to stop making my skin feeling so highly sensitive with every flick of his tongue. He lets me go, and my laughter stops. He produces a silver foil packet, and my body tenses immediately. Is this really happening? There is no turning back.
Back away right now, Presley!
My pathetic pleas are soon forgotten as he slams his lips against mine while fiddling with his belt buckle.
