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“Oh, my god! What are you doing? You’re soaking wet.”
“That’s supposed to be my line, beautiful.”
I shake my head as he walks through the door, eyeing his wet jeans and t-shirt. “What’s so special about what you’re wearing?” I yell over my shoulder as I run down the hallway to my bathroom and grab a towel. When I return, rounding the corner, I see him pulling off his shirt.
“I’m wearing the smile you gave me.”
I don’t even acknowledge his line. I’m too busy staring at the way he arches and bends, stretching to pull the wet t-shirt over his head.
He clears his throat. “Keep looking at me like that, Tink.” It’s a statement. An order, if you will.
I swallow down my pleasure and thrust forward the towel. “Here.” I grunt out.
He smirks and eyes me as he brushes the towel down his chest. I follow the moves. I’m unable to look away at his broad chest and large hands as he rubs himself dry.
“Tink.”
My eyes snap back to his. Before I know it, I’m charging him and climbing him like a tree. He groans as our mouths meet and my legs wrap around his waist. His hands are on my ass as I brazenly press my chest to his, needing to feel the pressure, his touch. He walks as we kiss, bumping into the table I have at the door, bouncing off the side of the couch and finally knocking over the stool that I pulled out to reach the top cabinet.
“Fuck.”
“Leave it. Keep going. Down the hall. Last door on the left.” I barely get the words out. My breath being stolen by each pass of his lips on mine.
He pushes the door that I left ajar and rushes me into my bedroom. Together we fall to my bed. He’s so tall, I feel like I’ve been dropped from ten feet in the air. The butterflies that overwhelm me from the free fall only intensify as his body connects with mine.
He braces himself, but I love the feel of his heavy weight on me. He works his way down my neck. I turn my head and he nibbles behind my ear. His hands are everywhere, sliding up and down my ribcage, touching me, but not nearly enough. It’s like he’s purposely staying away from all my hot spots.
“Mark.”
“Tink.”
I huff a laugh. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? Then I can say I rang tinker’s bell.”
I arch under him, pulling him tight to me with my legs. All those years of being a flyer has made my thighs like steel. He picks his head up quickly with a raised brow and leans over me.
“That’s some grip you’ve got.”
I roll him to the side and come up straddling him. He totally let me do it. There’s no way I was rolling over six feet of hard, muscled man. But I still smirk like I beat him at something.
I pull my shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor. His eyes track my movement, and his hands reach out for my breasts. He tracks the top lace cup of my bra with his finger before running his hand along the strap, grazing my skin, then back down the side and along the under wire. Again, he sets my body on fire and I’m begging for him to touch me where it counts.
“I want to play with you. I see your eyes begging for more, but don’t rush me through this.”
I whine and bear down on his rock-hard dick through his jeans. It doesn’t matter that they’re just about soaked through from the rain, I think I’ve gotten them even wetter by this point. He sucks in a breath and stills me with his enormous hands on my waist. “I know what you’re doing.” He sits up abruptly, taking my bottom lip in his teeth before running his tongue along it. “Let me play with you until you can’t take it anymore.”
His hot breath and dirty words melt me. I’m literally dripping for him.
“I can’t take it anymore, Mark.”
“Sure, you can.” His eyes are hooded, but he’s got a grin. “I’m going to show you just how much you really can take. Words and all.”
He flips me to my back again. He manhandles me like I’m a doll. I always hated being small, but right now I’m reveling in it. The way his hands span my waist, and his body covers me completely. He backs off the bed on his knees until he’s standing on the floor. He undoes the button on his jeans and I track his movements, the sound of the zipper, the way he slides them down his muscular legs. He’s got black boxer briefs on, and I can see the shape of his length.
“Jesus,” I whisper out.
“No, Mark is just fine.” When I roll my eyes but don’t stop staring at his cock, he says, “You sure know how to make a man feel good, Mackenzie.”
