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“You said that already. Give me another one.”
Megan closed her eyes against the red hot shame she felt, but the passion was hotter. “I like when they go for the chest.”
“Excellent, one of my favorite parts.”
Troy slid one hand down, but not as low as Megan wanted, stopping at her collarbone. He pressed his lips to her and claimed her mouth again while skittering the pads of his fingers just barely across the thin skin above her bone. The sensation was enough to drive her wild and not nearly enough to satisfy.
She tried to lean up and press into him more to steer his hands, but he would not be moved, biting her lip again when she tried.
“There’s an art to this,” he said against her lips as he trailed kisses down her jaw, neck, and finally to her collarbone. “You deserve to be savored.”
His voice was low, barely above a growl, and Megan hadn’t ever wanted anything more than for him to rip her top off right here and now and take her right there on the spot, but as if he could read her mind, he slowed even further, painstakingly playing with the edge of her blouse. When he would give it a tug, the cold air would hit a new spot of hot flesh, until he replaced the heat with his own mouth, sending her head spinning.
Her breasts, though small, screamed for his touch through the fabric of her bra and shirt, so that she arched her back, begging for more attention.
Troy answered the call, running his hand down over her, and through the fabric it only inspired more frustration. As if he sensed her plight, he slid his hand down her shirt, past her bra, and cupped her bare breast, sliding over her nipple, once, twice, then catching the peak and rolling it between his fingers, sending jolts of energy through her whole body. Megan squirmed beneath, her body with a mind of its own, first trying to get away then fighting for more, while Troy’s lips returned to her neck.
His breath was ragged which made her feel good. She hadn’t taken off a stitch of clothing, yet was ready to combust. It served him right that he was feeling some kind of way too.
The taunting continued, him building her up then backing off, until her head swam with desire and the need in her roared so much she could hear the blood pumping in her own ears. No longer afraid, all that mattered was that he give her what she needed. Right. Now. She arched again until Troy covered one of her tortured nipples with his mouth, licking it with his tongue, sending her head so far back, she thought she might break. He reached around and teased her nipple, while lapping at her and rolling the other around in his mouth, which meant one hand now rested on her thigh.
Megan’s legs had gone from rubbing against him to each other and now had opened on their own, hot with need and a throbbing ache for him.
On a broken breath, she called out his name. “Please.”
He tilted his head and caught her eyes, the dark pupils burning in the night as he brought the heel of his hand to the very spot where she needed him to be. Through her jeans, the pressure was still enough to send her skyrocketing over the edge or so she thought.
Troy’s nimble hand found the waistband of her jeans and tugged them down, sliding in to gain access where one perfectly placed finger found its target, wet and ready.
As soon as he began a rhythmic stroking, her legs shook on their own accord, and all of the pressure morphed in her tight chest. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. All she knew was him and pleasure and the rising wave within her that didn’t feel like it would break.
She panted, trying to draw breath, clawing at him and shifting to get any relief and find her highest point.
Sensing her struggle, Troy nuzzled behind her ear and bit her on the neck, sending her over the top into a dark pool of satisfied bliss.
CHAPTER23
Troy clutched the steering wheel. In the pitch-black night he could only see the taillights ahead of him as he bumped along the road, keeping track of the vehicle in front. He didn’t want to be too close, but in the blackness wanted to make sure his wheels were on the same path.
The glow of his own headlights gave him a short distance, but beyond the light there was nothing. The dust from the others clouded up, obscuring what little he could see in a fog.
There were no stars. Only headlights and brake lights in front of him, and then another set behind him. He was in the middle, doing his best to react to the quick juts and dips of the sorry excuse for a road in front of him.
The glow of the dash cast a light hue over him. He was told it was green, but all he knew was it was lighter in color than the rest. He could at least pick up on shades. Only a few more miles and he’d be safe.
He saw the flash first. A split second before he heard it, he saw the spark in the dark that erupted into total hell, engulfing the right side of the Humvee in front of him.
He threw the door open and rushed forward on foot, which he knew was stupid, but he had to get to them. His friends. Simon.
The fire was like the devil himself, the flames licking into the dark sky. In a cruel twist of fate, in the darkness he could see nothing but the towering blaze. A few people staggered out, stunned from the blast, but the passenger side door didn’t open.
Simon.
He heard screaming. Was it him? Was it the flames? Troy reached forward, and strangely didn’t feel the pain searing through his hand. He could see Simon, motionless, screaming in the flames, and he tried to reach in and grab him, pull him free.
More screaming. Louder.
He couldn’t get him. Tried to reach in deeper. The flames were all around him, smoke burning his eyes.
