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“Hans,” I cry, so close to coming.
I don’t want to be in this alone, but I’m not sure how to ask him to join me.
The look on my face must say it all.
Hans rumbles out a sound through his chest, then his mouth is back on mine.
This man has never said so much as a sentence to me before today. He’s a complete stranger to me. But if he pulled that thick dick out of his jeans right now, I’d let him fuck me raw atop this couch.
My neighbor uses the hand under me to hold me in place as he presses his hips harder against mine, grinding against me.
Our groans meld together as we both feel the press of his length against my core.
I tilt my hips, urging his dick to press harder against my clit.
His teeth scrape against my bottom lip, and my body tenses, preparing for release.
Oh god, I’m going to come in my shorts.
And I don’t care.
I tighten my legs around him, but then something vibrates against my inner thigh, where his pocket is.
Hans palms my other breast, its size filling his large hands, and I want him to pull on my nipple again.
His pocket vibrates a second time.
“Fuck.” He pulls his mouth from mine.
We stare at each other while we feel it vibrate a third time.
Texts. This man is getting texts while I’m having the most intensely sexual moment of my life.
CHAPTER14
Hans
Cassandra Cantrell,the thirty-year-old beauty next door, is blinking up at me with her trusting amber eyes, her mouth red and puffy from my kiss, and her body vibrating like it’s ready to explode.
The girl who flutters through life, no regard for her own safety, is looking at me like she wants me to fuck her. Like she’d happily reenact any one of those photos, only this time with my dick buried inside her. One hole or another.
She’s watching me like she’s waiting for me to explain what’s happening. To explain why it feels like this between us.
She’s doing that, and I’m getting text messages. Which means someone needs to die tonight.
And because I have more deaths on my hands than bones in my body, I’m the man who’s going to do it.
Karmine’s words echo in my mind. The warning about bad actors closing in. And I know I have to leave.
“Hans?” Cassandra says my name, and I hate it.
Because I crave it.
I flex my fingers, taking in one last handful. “Lock your door.”
A question starts to form on her sweet lips, but I pull my hands free.
Free of her chest. Free of her heat.
