Page 120 of Birthday Girl

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I yelp, the burn spreading across my left cheek. Son of a…. I reach back and try to cover my behind in case he spanks me again.

It sounds like he kicks open my bedroom door, and the next thing I know, I’m flying off his shoulder and crashing back onto my bed.

My elbows dig into the mattress, and my head jerks forward, my hair flying into my face.

“Now go to bed!” he barks.

I blow the hair out of my eyes and see him walking out. “Tuck me in?”

I see him drop his head, and he’s breathing so hard, like he’s almost out of fuel. He turns, calming his voice just a hair. “What the hell has gotten into you tonight?”

Is he kidding?

I shoot off the bed and stand in front of him. “You brought her here, that’s what.”

“It’s my house!”

I shake my head. “She won’t satisfy you,” I tell him. “She’s not what you want.”

“So, you’re jealous?”

I lower my voice, approaching him. “You have everything you need in this house. There’s no reason to look elsewhere for…” I drop my head, suddenly a little embarrassed, “for anything you need,” I tell him.

I’m all he needs.

His chest rises and falls in front of my eyes, and I inhale his scent that’s unique to only him. Sun, wood, and the faint fragrances of his body wash, shampoo, and the Tide his clothes have been washed in. He smells like a hot summer night and how I wish my first time had gone, and I soak it up while I can, because any minute, he’s going to storm off.

“So, you had a little tantrum on purpose then?” he says, not really asking. “Because you wanted to be the one in my bed tonight?”

I dart my eyes up, narrowing them. “Because you invited her over to hurt me, but I know your game, and you’ll be the one who loses,” I retort.

I close the inch between us, my shirt brushing his. His chin drops as he looks down at me, and my heart pounds against my chest.

“Because even if she stayed and she rode you to kingdom-come all night long,” I tell him, “you’ll still wake up thinking about me before you even remember she’s in bed next to you.”

His breathing grows heavier, and I can see him weakening.

I continue. “You’ll be wondering what I’m doing in my bed alone, if I’m awake and warm, or,” I push up on my toes and hover my mouth over his jaw as I whisper, “if I’m touching myself and dreaming about you coming in and eating me out through my panties.”

He sucks in a breath, closing his eyes, and I can feel him get hard through his jeans. “Jordan, please,” he begs, sounding desperate. “Fuck.”

I try to keep my smile to myself, but I’m so happy. I know he wants me.

I hook my fingers on the waist of his jeans, nudging his chin with my nose to taunt him. “I know you want to,” I whisper again. “You want to grab me so bad.”

I stay right there, up on him, but I take my hands off him and slide my fingers into my own waistband instead, gently and slowly slipping off my shorts. They fall down to my feet, and I fist my fingers, my body so alive with fear and desire and need.

Look at me.

Touch me.

“I’m dying to taste you,” I tell him. “And to feel you. Every day it’s getting harder and harder to ignore what my body wants. I wake up so wet, Pike.” I move my mouth over to his, layering our lips. “I want you to want me. I want to see you wanting me and getting off on me.”

I can feel the slickness between my legs, and his breath is so hot. I lower myself to my feet but keep my eyes on his.

“I love how you worry about me and want to protect me,” I say. “But a girl has needs, too, and eventually, I’ll have to find another man who can do your job better.”

Rage burns behind his frozen stare, but he doesn’t blink.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Romance