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I grab a handful of his top and pull him toward me. “I want you,” I tell him, my lips brushing his. “Right now.”
He laughs and kisses me, then gently pushes me away. “Let me have a shower first. I’m all hot and sweaty.”
“Are you trying to turn me on?”
He chuckles, trying to catch my hands, but I manage to get one beneath his top and slip it up his back. Oh, man, he’s right—my fingers slide over his hot, damp skin. Wow, that’s so erotic I almost come on the spot.
“Sidnie,” he scolds, pulling my hand out, “I’m disgusting, please, let me have a shower.”
“No way.” I lean forward, press my lips to his neck where the V of his top reveals his skin, and lick the hollow at the base of his throat.
“Jesus.” He growls. “Stop it.”
Wanting to fire him up, I push him, but he’s like a fucking monolith, and he doesn’t move. So I shove him harder with both hands, forcing him to step back. He pushes me in return, not hard—just in play—but it makes me stumble. My pulse races, and before I can think better of it, I draw back my hand and give him a sound slap around the face. It’s not hard, there’s no anger behind it, but it makes a crack that startles both of us.
Oops.
His eyes blaze. Before I can react, he puts a hand on my collarbone, just below my throat, and pushes me up against the wall with a move that knocks the breath from my body. I look up at him, and my heart pounds.
He holds me there, looking thoughtful for a few seconds. His eyes are wide, intense.
Then he cocks his head. “You want to play. Okay, we’ll play. But you’re going to regret being sassy with me.”
Feeling brave, I taunt, “You’re all talk.”
He looks at me for a moment. His eyes are lazy. Amused. “Would you like to repeat that?”
I shiver. He suddenly seems a lot taller and bigger than me. I feel as if I’ve poked a tiger through the bars of his cage with a stick, and now I’ve realized the cage door is open. Holy fuck. I’m not brave enough to say it again.
“I thought not,” he says. Slowly, he lowers his lips to just above mine. He waits a second, then brushes his lips up my jaw to my ear, and warms it with his breath. “You wanted to rile me up? Well, it worked.”
I inhale, my heart hammering.
“Now I’m in the mood to fuck you within an inch of your life.” His eyes gleam. “And I’m going to make you come over and over again, until you beg for mercy.”
“W-what about the safe word?” I whisper.
“I told you that if you teased me, there’d be consequences.” His voice is low and husky. “Safe words aren’t going to work today. I’m going to keep fucking you until I’m ready to stop, understand me? I’m going to do whatever I want to you. And you just get to lie there and take it.”
My chest heaves. I can’t tell whether he’s serious.
His lips curve up, just a fraction.
Then he pulls me away from the wall and starts walking me backward. I assume he’s taking me to the bedroom, but to my surprise he directs me through the living room, then out through the doors onto the patio.
He drags one of the chairs away from the table with one hand, then pushes me so my butt is resting against the table.
My eyes widen, and I glance over my shoulder to the apartment block opposite. “Mack! People can see us.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He slides his hand up my tennis dress, hooks his fingers in the elastic at the waist of my Lycra shorts, and pulls them down in one swift movement, as if he’s whisking away a tablecloth beneath plates and glasses in a magic show. I squeal, but he pushes me back onto the table, then lifts my legs to pull off my shoes and the shorts. Before I can complain, he slides his hand up my thigh, slips his fingers beneath the elastic of my knickers, and moves his fingers down into me.
His eyes gleam. “Sidnie,” he says, amused, “you’re wet already. Am I turning you on?”
“Jesus.” Embarrassed, I try to push his hand away, but it’s like trying to move a steel bar fixed into a wall with concrete.
“You’re such a dirty girl,” he says, kissing my jaw.
“Fuck off.” The words leave my mouth before I get a chance to vet them.
