Maybe I should aim for the flannel shirt guy. See how he likes my second attempt.
With a final yank, I take the gun from Kane’s hand, only to yelp when he sits up and pulls me down so I straddle his hips. His strong hand wraps around mine and points the gun toward the wall. “No more shooting, Blondie.”
“Oh, you’re awake. Good. Get up.”
“Not awake.” His dark eyes, glassy and hooded, look into mine. “Still sleeping. But I need my gun.”
“It’s dangerous, you lunatic. Sleeping with a gun is about as healthy for you as snorting cocaine with Abel.”
His spare hand grows tighter on my hip, even as his eyes turn heavy and drop closed. “Give my gun back.”
“Let me up, get into bed, then I’ll give it back. You need to eat. And remember that juice you were so excited about?”
“Juice?” His lips turn up into a quirky grin. His face is still slack, his eyes closed, but his grin remains and his cock hardens beneath me.
“Wow. Juice really turns you on, huh?”
With a dirty snigger, he shakes his head and gently pushes me off his lap. Shakily standing, he staggers the three feet between where we were on the floor and stops at the foot of his bed. “No. You sitting on me turns me on.” His exhausted eyes narrow when he looks down his almost naked body. “Why are my shorts wet? Was that you?”
“No!” I climb to my feet and push him back until his ass hits the bed. If he falls again, I’m done. He can sleep on the floor. “Even in your state, you’re still a damn pig. That wasn’t me, that was you.” I step back to the set of drawers and yank out a fresh pair of underwear. “Take yours off, put these on. You’re all wet, and I just made the bed. Your dick will rot and shrivel up if you sleep in wet shorts.”
“Don’t want that,” he lazily drawls. Lying back on the bed, he lifts his legs and pushes his shorts down.
Naked.
Stark fucking naked, and his cock stands at a ninety degree angle. “You’re a pig.”
Snickering, he closes his eyes and drops his legs. “Take care of that for me, won’t ya? I was high as fuck last night, and I still didn’t get laid. Cocaine makes for a monster fucking Kane, and you kept saying no.”
I toss the underwear at his face and start to turn away. “Put them on yourself. I’ll get your juice.”
Dramatically sighing, he brings his hand down to stroke his cock. “Another day, big boy. She’s still playing hard to get.”
I fuss with my shopping bags and yank the orange juice out, but in my peripherals, I watch his joking pat turn to a long stroke that I’m certain he didn’t mean. His groan syncs with mine, and from only six feet apart, our eyes meet.
He has about three seconds before passing out again, yet his dick pulses, and the adrenaline and fatigue of the last twenty-four hours – hell, this whole fucking week – makes me react in odd ways. Last night, I was genuinely terrified he’d die, and this morning, I shot at him. But right now, I’m honestly considering sitting on him and letting the spark of sexual tension that rests between us wash away.
Everything will stop being so intense once we fuck.
Once we get that out of the way.
Once he gets his fill and realizes the chase was more fun than reality.
Maybe then he’ll stop touching himself in front of me. Maybe then, I’ll be able to think with my brain again, rather than my out of control hormones.
“I see you, Blondie.” Grinning, he turns his head to the side. “You’re gonna burst that juice open if you don’t loosen your grip a little.”
I peel my eyes away from the naked man laid out on his bed and look down at the juice I hold in a white-knuckled grip. Loosening my hold, I crack the lid open and pull out the last clean glass from his sort-of kitchen cabinet. Pouring it to the very rim until the juice dribbles over to my hand, I lift the glass and chug until it’s half empty.
I wish it was tequila.
I wish he would stop sending me crazy.
Literally.
Chuckling, he sits up on the end of the bed and feeds his feet through the leg holes of his underwear. Instead of standing to pull them up, he lies back and lifts his hips, but even when they’re in place, the tip of his cock still pokes out the top and rests against his lower belly.
Clearing my throat, I chug the second half of his juice and turn back to pour another for him. He’s the one lacking in all vitamins and minerals right now, still on the verge of passing out.