My nose tingles and my eyes threaten to water but I take a few breaths to compose myself before speaking. “I will.”
“I don’t want you leaving my side anyway.” He drops his gaze and trails his finger from my collarbone to between my breasts. I tip my head, watching his thumb slide under my dress. “Hmm, what’s under here?”
“A complicated combination of bra and boob tape.”
He removes his hand and lifts an eyebrow. “Something to unwrap later.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Grinder
What the fuck am I doing? Serena’s dressed to the nines, like she should be stepping out of a limo and waving to a line of photographers eager to shoot her picture. I try not to dwell on our age difference too often, but god damn, she has no business with someone as worn down by life as me. And I’m a fucking bastard for making her come here when she’s clearly uncomfortable. I promised to take care of her and ease the stress in her life. Not make it worse.
I’m on edge myself. Not looking forward to having attention on me. Not interested in talking about prison life or waxing poetic about the old days. Don’t feel like dealing with brothers and their misplaced guilt that they’ve been out here living their lives while I was rotting in prison. None of it appeals to me. I just want to move the fuck on.
“Where’s your patch?” I ask Serena.
Her big blue eyes—made impossibly bigger by all the black stuff expertly smudged around them—widen. “Here.” She shifts to the side, but I don’t release her. “Gray.” A note of exasperation follows.
“Nah, don’t wanna let go of you.” To prove it, I follow her to the dresser with my hands around her waist, making laughter bubble past her lips.
Her fingers grasp the vest, carefully laid out. I watch her reflection in the mirror. “Put your hands on the dresser.”
In the mirror, our eyes meet. “What?”
“Do it.”
She huffs but there’s a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Leaning over and bracing herself against the wood, she raises her eyebrows. “Like this?”
“Yup. Just like that.” The mirror gives a nice view down the front of her dress. And from back here I can slide the material up… “Damn, this is tight.” The dress doesn’t budge as easily as I thought it would.
She leans over farther, resting her elbows on the dresser. “I wanted to wear it before I start showing.”
“Don’t get me any harder than I already am.” I run my hands over her ass and down her smooth legs.
She dances on her toes, the sharp, heavy points of her heels clicking against the floor. “That tickles!”
I tease my fingers behind her knees and she laughs harder. I lean closer and trail my tongue over the back of her thigh and she gasps, inching her feet apart.
A lick of guilt sweeps over me. I’d told Z we’d be out in a few minutes. Fuck it. He’ll understand.
I stand straight and grab Serena’s hips, yanking her against my groin. “A man my age shouldn’t want to fuck this much.”
“Do it,” she whispers, staring at me in the mirror. She lifts herself long enough to carefully wiggle her dress up around her waist, then leans over the dresser again.
The building would have to be on fire for me to say no. I run my hand over shiny black material that looks more like shorts than underwear. Not something I can just slide to the side easily. I hook my fingers in the waistband and drag them down to her knees. In the mirror, I watch her eyes close and her lips part.
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
“Open your eyes and watch me.”
I wait until she does what I ask, then undo my belt. She wiggles her ass while I free myself. “Cut that out,” I growl.
Instead of answering, she shuffles her feet as far apart as the material around her knees will allow and arches her back. With my big frame looming behind her, she looks exposed and vulnerable.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
She nods and curls her fingers around the edge of the dresser.
“That’s right, you better hold on.” I shove my cock inside her without any other warning. She gasps and rises on her toes, nails scratching against the dresser.
“Fuck,” I groan. We did this not two hours ago and being inside her still feels like coming home.
I lean over her, inhaling the scent of her skin and hair. My hand slides between her legs. She jumps when my middle finger snuggles up to her clit. “That’s it,” I breathe against her ear. “Open for me.”
“I can’t,” she gasps.
“Poor Serena,” I tease, fucking her with long, slow strokes. “Are you trapped?”
“Y-yes.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Oh my God. Right there. Please.” She continues begging and pleading but I take my time. My hips snap against her ass, my fingers stroke between her legs. A violent shudder works through her body. She tenses and twists her hips, her face contorting.