“We need to have a talk.” There’s a gruffness to my voice that’s not usually there.
She chuckles a devilish laugh. “Oh, Croix. Are you… jealous?” She draws the word out, raising an eyebrow.
“Why in the hell would I be jealous, Chief? I don’t even like you,” I snap and the words are out of my mouth before I realize how wrong they sound.Lies. I am fucking jealous.
Pushing away from the wall, I stalk toward her as she remains rooted in place, staring me down. Fight mode in place. I take another step, closing the distance between us again, molecules breaking up without space to simply be. Her warm breath runs over every crease in my skin, heat radiating from her skin for once.
Squaring her shoulders, trying to remain composed, she leans in, “I don’t like you, either, Croix. I hate you.”
“Oh, yeah? Then prove it.” Before I know what I’m doing, I reach out, pulling her into me, my mouth on hers. We’re dueling in a battle of lust-filled hate. It’s a punishing kiss etched with lust and need. Biting my bottom lip, she groans, giving it back to me as much as I’m doling it out. Lips catch on teeth. Tongues entwine and fight for who’s on top. My hands run up and down her sides, and I can’t help but try to memorize every curve as I go along.
Her small hands mimic my roaming ones, moving into my hair and tugging. Her fingernails scrape against my scalp, causing a shiver to run the length of my spine. It’s so hot. I don’t even know where she ends and I begin. I want her badly. My body urges me to take her up against the first wall I find.
The surrounding walls are all brick, it’ll destroy her dress or her back if she’s up against it, but in these few seconds, I don’t care. This fire has been building between us for months and now the spark is lit. It’s no longer burning embers. I’m lighting her up and melting the fuck out of her icy existence.
Electricity flows through my veins and neither of us willingly pulls away.
Wynter Carlisle is killing the hell out of me. Her full bright red lips bruise my own, her tongue seeking entry into my mouth.
I open again and let her in as we duel. She isn’t proving anything to me other than that her little truth earlier is actually a lie. She damn well likes me. Or maybe she hates me so much that our lines of lust and hate are blurring. Or maybe it’s the way her fingers skim my scalp and her lips press against mine. Or it’s the erection that’s pressing into her stomach screaming to be let loose.
It could’ve been her chest pressed against mine or the heated breaths that flow out of it when Wynter realizes who she’s kissing. She pulls back for the first time. “What’s happening?” She whispers, breathlessly.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to stop.” I grind out. My voice is raw and gravelly with need.
Our eyes lock and we stare at each other for the briefest of moments before she responds. “I don’t want to either.”
We exchange no more words between us as I grab her hand and pull her into the ladies’ bathroom behind me. I turn, checking the stalls before locking the door so no one will barge in on us. I’m also not about to share any of this with the world. For these few seconds, Wynter is mine and mine alone. I tug her toward me and once again my lips move against hers, my need to mark her possessively. With a breathless moan, she opens.
Pushing her up against the wall, her legs part, and I step between them. I fit perfectly between these sexy legs. Reaching up, I cup the back of her neck before sliding my fingers through her fire engine red hair. I pull a little and she moans at the pressure. Our tongues contrast so deliciously against one another as my hips grind against her, causing much-needed friction, wanting to be ever closer to her. To be inside her.
“Wynter…” I groan, trailing my lips down her jaw and over the vein in her neck, placing a gentle kiss there when I stop. My heart hammers against my chest, giving me every sign of a heart attack. How in the world did I end up with Wynter freaking Carlisle in the ladies room of a hole in the wall bar about to do God knows what to her body?
My mind is blank and I’m scrambling to process every single event that led up to our current situation. I can’t concentrate on anything other than our bodies pressed together, our skin tingling, and my erection thumping between us.
She moves against me, needing to touch as much as I do. She lets out an involuntary whimper before kissing across my bearded jawline. I feel each squeeze as she caresses my biceps like a horny woman. “Your tattoos are hot” she whispers, barely against my skin, but I hear her loud and clear.
The rest of the world falls away as I devour her. No audience but the brick walls, dirty floor, and toilets around us. I took in the fact that all the stalls were empty when we came in. Gotta cover those bases.
She parts her lips, and I capture them like a war gift. Bewitching me with her lips, I’m drugged into needing another taste, another bite. It’s hot for a kiss. My hand snakes down her body, skimming past the outline of her breasts, over her hips to her groin. I slip under her dress, my fingers finding the lacey fabric of her panties.
Pinning her back to the bathroom wall, I grind my erection into her stomach, through our clothes. A desperate moan escapes those bright red lips and I steal it with another dirty kiss. My enemy draws another white flag.
I pull back, shoving my hand into the top of her panties and she whimpers, her head falling back to the brick. Lost in a wave of lust.
“I don’t do this a lot,” she whispers. Her admission doesn’t surprise me. For all those times she claimed otherwise, I never once believed her. Wynter Carlisle doesn’t let people get close enough.
My cock jerks between us, needing to mold itself to her.
“Oh, yeah?” I try to sound surprised but fail.
She nods, her head lifting to look at me.
My thumb and forefinger find her clit and pinch it as she gasps. The rest of my fingers slide over her entrance, gathering her desire for me and swirling it around her needy bundle. Her skin is warm against me, not an ounce of cold here.
I lean in, kissing my way from her ear to her neck, down to her shoulder.
“Yes,” she says on a moan.