“I spanked you for getting mouthy with me.”
“That makes it better?”
“You mean to tell me you’re not wet for me?” My gaze dropped to her spread legs, zeroing in on her pussy. “I told you to put your mouth to good use.” I removed my biker boots while holding her heated gaze.
“I’m not wet for you,” she whispered, biting her lower lip. Her hazel-green eyes were fully dilated.
“Liar.” I dropped my jeans and stepped out of them. My cocky, confident self was on full display. Getting between a woman’s legs had never been so fucking hot.
Rita stared, stunned by my shock-and-awe strategy. I’d never taken a woman and tossed her over my shoulder before. Much less broke my furniture. Most women just got on their knees or the bed on their own accord.
But not Rita, who still hadn’t moved. I could tell she was at war with herself. Debating what she wanted to happen. Whether to run out the door and to the safety of her home or take her clothes off.
What she should do was run. I knew it. She knew it.
Yet she rested on her elbows, her pretty eyes locked on my crotch, my tented crotch. I had a monster hard-on with Rita’s name on it beneath my boxers. It felt spectacular to have while in her presence. More so, after being dead for days.
To test her, I slowly stroked my cock and hissed because goddammit, I ached something fierce for Rita.
She licked her lips, chest rising and falling like she’d run a marathon on a hundred-degree day.
“Rita…” I growled her name to get her attention. Derek had been right, her name slid off my tongue like honey, and I was about to find out if she tasted just as sweet.
She flitted her gaze up to mine. “Hmm?”
“What do you want?” I was giving her the power to send me to blue-ball hell. I’d been fortunate to have never visited that evil place before, but there was a first time for everything.
I’d been spoiled with more pussy at my disposal than I could ever plow through, working at Club R. I only took what was offered. I didn’t chase women. I didn’t flirt with them. I didn’t buy them dinner or send them flowers or talk to them like I’d done with Rita.
I used them, plain and simple. Yeah, I was a fucker, a dickhead, a bastard. Nana had encouraged me to talk to someone about my distrust of women. I didn’t need to talk to a fucking quack. I knew why I didn’t trust women.
Women lied. They shattered your fucking heart and left you. So romance didn’t matter. Or it hadn’t mattered before Rita.
“I…” Her mouth opened and closed.
I stepped closer to the bed. My knees touched her sandals. She visibly shook, and my guess was she shook with arousal. “Yes, Rita. Tell me.”
She swallowed and inhaled a deep breath.
I was closer to having her, seconds away from being buried deep inside her.
“No girlfriend?”
It pissed me off how she was hung up on the girlfriend bullshit. I was to blame for it. Me and my big fucking mouth, trying to honor the promise I’d made Nana.She’s a good girl, Nik. Leave her alone. Promise me, she’d said in one breath. In her next, she’d said,I want you happy. Rita can make you happy, but first, you must treat her like she means the world to you.
Treat her like she means the world to me.
I’d promised Nana to stay away because why not? No woman would ever mean the world to me.
The day I moved in and Rita came over to welcome me to the neighborhood, something changed in me. I couldn’t explain it. It was like she had imprinted on me like those fucking wolves in that vampire movie. All week I had tried to fuck her out of my mind at work and at home. But my goddamned cock wouldn’t get hard for any other woman.
The ones I brought home? The ones Rita saw on the back of my bike? They’d given it their all, prancing around nude, playing with themselves, stroking and sucking on my limp dick. They did all the things that would generally turn me on. But nothing they had done affected me. It frustrated the hell out of me and even scared me. Like, was my dick broke or some shit?
No, it wasn’t broken, because all I had to do was think of Rita’s fine ass, full lips, or sassy attitude and my cock would stand to attention and salute.
After a week of torture, I needed relief and not by my own hand.
“I already told you, I lied about the girlfriend.” I flattened my hands on the mattress and leaned toward her. “Do you want this? Do you want me?”