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She whimpered when he licked his lips and bent his head to her breast. Her hand crept into his hair, clutching onto his roots as he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked.
Finley sagged against the wall. Her limbs melted. Her senses burned up. The fabric of the dress around her breast became as soaked as her nipple under Jagger’s attention. She swayed from side to side, pushing him away when she thought she was going to implode while at the same time offering him everything he wanted.
“You want to know how big I am?” he asked, looking deep into her eyes before he deserted her completely, leaving her a ragged, heaving hot mess with only the wall to keep her standing upright.
Breathless, and hopelessly turned on, Finley could only watch, stunned, as he turned his back toward her and dropped the towel to the floor. An incredibly awe-struck gasp escaped her mouth. The man was made of steel. Every muscle dipped and curved into another all the way down his back until she came to his backside... Holy hot hell. Was there a part of him that wasn’t just mesmerizing to look at?
But her enthrallment soon turned to bewilderment when he snagged a pair of jeans that had been lying on a chair and pulled them on.
Wait, what?
“The only way you’re going to measure my cock,” he said casually, putting on shoes. “Is either with your...” He stalled again, opening a drawer and removing a plain white T-shirt that he slipped into. “Pretty mouth. Or with your sweet pussy. Or even with your hot as hell sexy ass, Kitten. You’ll have to pick one, or two, or all three,” he said huskily as he came toward her, fully clothed. He reached out for the strap of her dress that still hung on the side of her arm and then lifted it back into place, covering her nipple that still glistened from his mouth. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
No, she understood nothing. She could barely make her body breathe. How on earth was she going to make her brain think? He wanted her to measure him... with her mouth... her pussy... her ass...? And she was to pick one, or all three.
“I—”
“You have twenty-four hours to make your decision,” he said, brushing his thumb against her swollen lip before he dipped down, wrapped his arm around her thighs, and tossed her over his shoulder.
“Hey... what are you doing?” She finally found her voice, but it was squeaky as heck.
“Driving you home.”
She didn’t bother stating that she had driven herself there, mostly because she had used up all her words already, so she continued to sit in stunned silence in his truck as he drove her home. She could still feel his mouth on her as if he hadn’t stopped touching her. Her nipple was still damp from his mouth. Her legs still quivered nonstop.
Did she correctly understand that he was giving her twenty-four hours to make a decision about which part of her body she wanted to use to measure his cock?
Yes, he did. He most definitely did.
Chapter Nine
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She was going to killhim with her bare hands. It didn’t matter that he was a six-foot-three lumberjack with muscles for days and an undisclosed-size cock, and she was only five-foot-three in heels; she was still going to kill him.
How dare he? How absolutely dare he come into her life and derail it quite so entirely?
