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My legs move on their own accord. I keep thinking about him in the car, the wistful look on his face, the worry in his tone as he described moving around, never settling. I have fears like that too—fears that I’ll never meet the right person, that I’ll drift along endlessly stuck in my Grandpop’s house, never moving on. A ghost life.
He’s awake, lying shirtless on the couch, in only a pair of gym shorts. I knew he’d be awake. This time, there’s no laptop, only the glow of his phone. He lowers it the second I pause in the hallway, watching him. Like he expected me.
He says nothing. I don’t speak either. Slowly, he sits up, then stands and comes toward me.
I don’t move. My heart’s racing. The man’s built, absolutely carved from muscle and testosterone. The stare he gives me sends a jolt of excitement into my core. It’s pure hunger.
This is dangerous.
“Is this going to become a nightly thing?” he whispers, closing the distance between us until he’s right there, big and warm, breathing slowly.
“Just shut up and enjoy, okay?”
He smirks as he runs his fingers into my hair then pulls. “You first.”
Then he kisses me.
I kiss him back, tumbling into the moment.
It’s more than a mistake. It’s a full-on travesty. It’s a world-ending error. And I don’t care.
Even if this man’s a nightmare, I can’t deny this feels good. Having him like this, the way he looks at me, the way he touches me, it’s the best I’ve felt in a very long time.
I’m not sure when I’ll get another chance to have him. I might as well enjoy it while I can.
I push him back to the couch, stumbling in the darkness through an unfamiliar house with a man that’s all but a stranger. My life dances on the edge, inches from a drop into oblivion.
None of it matters. His lips, his tongue. They’re soft, delicious, and the way he touches me makes every hair on my body stand on end. My nipples are stiff, my pussy pulses with want. I push him one last time until he’s sitting on the couch.
Then I drop to my knees.
“Payback,” I say, pulling down his gym shorts.
He laughs softly, stroking my hair. “You can pay me back by sitting on my face.”
I snort once before taking his hard cock in both my hands. Holy shit, he’s big, and he’s like steel. I can feel his heart beating through his tip. Fast and excited. “You don’t want me to wrap my lips around you?”
“I want that more than you can imagine,” he says with real heat. I believe him. Slowly, I stroke his shaft, up and down.
“You want me to suck you?” I tilt my head. Teasing a monster. What a stupid idea. Like dangling myself above a starving crocodile. “You want me to take you between my lips?”
“If you keep delaying, you won’t like what happens,” he says, purring the words. Smooth, but also deadly.
I take off my shirt.
That gets his attention. His eyes drift to my breasts. I let him look, reveling in his gaze, the way he licks his lips.
It’s incredible, the intoxicating excitement of his unbridledwant. To be needed by another person like this, to be desired so deeply, with no hesitation, it’s not something I’ve ever felt before.
With other people, there’s a veil over everything.
Like nobody wants to act first.
Like I’m always at a distance, watching from the sidelines.
With Lanzo, there’s no guessing, no bullshit.
He’s fully present.
