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"Thank you," I tell him.
"I didn't ask you to say thank you," he says. He wraps his arms around my waist. "I asked you to say you're mine."
"I'm not your pet journalist," I mutter.
"Not as a reporter," he says. "Write whatever you want about me. But you'remine, Birdie Hart. I knew it from the moment I first met you."
"I'm not a toy," I whisper.
"I know," he says, pulling me closer to him. "You're so much more than that."
His hands go to my hair, and he kisses me, deeper than he's ever kissed me before. He kisses me with meaning, with emotion, and I know what I have to say. He's not just a dirty fuck, not just a rough one night stand.
"I'm yours," I whisper, when he pulls away.
We walk back into the bedroom, and he sprawls on the bed, lying on his back and pulling me down to lie on his chest. I run my fingers over his tattoos, tracing the lines and the swirls.
"So," I say. "What now?"
He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "Now," he says, "you tell me what you've learned about me."
I raise my head. "Nah...I have integrity," I say.
He snickers. "Fine," he says. "Then get up here, sit on my face, and let's do this all over again."
Chapter eight
Johnny
I'mkeepingher.
That's the only thought on my mind when I wake up the next morning to find Birdie Hart still in my bed, her blonde hair in curls and tangles across the pillow.
She's so peaceful, and I can't help but take in her beauty as she sleeps. Her lips part ever so slightly as she breathes in and out, the duvet shifting with each inhalation and exhalation. I can't help but reach out to brush a stray curl away from her face, my fingertips lightly grazing her warm skin.
Just the contact sends sparks through my body.
I want her so fucking bad. I've already had her, and it's just made me want her even more.
I ease closer to Birdie, wanting to feel all of her warmth against me. She stirs slightly in response to my movements, and I find myself pulling the covers down so I can get an eyeful of her breasts. She stirs slightly as I cover her breasts with my hands, squeezing her nipples, making her lips part.
The sensation running through me is electric, like nothing I've ever felt before. I've had a lot of women...but Birdie is special.
I want more.
No longer able to resist the temptation of Birdie's body so close to mine, I climb on top of her and kiss down her torso, playing with her tits as I go. She moans softly, arching up into my hands, and I'm painfully hard by the time I get under the covers and drag my tongue up her slit.
She cries out in pleasure, her hand gripping my hair as I bury my mouth in her pussy, licking her clit and sucking so hard that she cries out louder, her hips bucking against my mouth.
"Yes..." she moans, her hips rising to meet my mouth. "That feels so good."
I suck her clit rhythmically, feeling her pussy dripping wet and wanting in my mouth. She grips my hair with her hand, her hips flinging harder against my mouth as she gets closer and closer to her climax. As I torture her clit with my tongue, she moans louder and louder, until finally her back arches and she comes hard against my lips, moaning my name in ecstasy.
Her hand falls from my hair and her breathing becomes heavy, but I don't stop my assault. I can't. Ineedher...that little taste wasn't enough.
"Please..." she moans. "Please."
"Please what?" I ask.
