Well, with that, I pushed my door open.
Chapter 4
“Sorry about the mess,” I said as I padded into the room.
“Don’t care,” he replied, just a dark shadow in the doorway.
“The maid should’ve come by.”
She should have, but the problem was she was me. I took a look at the piles of discarded clothes, the dirty plates, the teetering pile of books. Maybe we should’ve used one of the rental rooms. Nah, at least this way, if I shone a black light at the bed, all the glowing marks on the sheets were my bodily fluids, not some rando’s.
“Unless the maid is gonna come here in five seconds and strip you bare, I really don’t give a shit.”
And he didn’t, which was unnerving. A thrill of excitement spiked through me at his never-ending gaze. I hadn’t seen someone look at me with this kind of focus in forever. Maybe not ever. That miserable thought had me frowning slightly. I hadn’t believed in that fat bastard Santa Claus since I missed out on the My Little Pony Dream Castle playset when I was eight, but right now? I watched Shaun step closer, all hot smouldering menace, and nearly started praying to dark gods when his fingers went to the back of his shirt, pulling it off over his head to reveal everything I’d ever dreamed of.
So if Insta thirst traps had glorious babies with cologne ad male models, even they wouldn’t be as hot as this guy. My hand went out, drawn to his rippling abs like a magnet to iron, and he was made of iron or something else ridiculously impervious. There was not one scrap of excess fat on him. Those big broad shoulders, well defined biceps, deep channels between each ab I wanted to trace with my tongue…
“You can do that if you like, but not before I get my taste of you, Miss Bec.”
“I said that aloud?” I asked, cringing, but he wasn’t having any of that. He moved in, swallowing the space between us and filling it with him. His mouth hovered over mine as he tugged me close, keeping me pinned against that hard body, my hands landing on his chest. I let my palms graze his satiny flesh, my nails arrowing in on his tight beaded nipples.
“Yeah you did, and, love?” He moved in, just brushing my lips with his, making me lean in for more. “I’ve shown you mine, now I need to see yours.”
He raised a single eyebrow in question, sliding his hands under my polo, but stopped, waiting. I nodded, because fuck, I just wanted to rip off every item of clothing and get right down to the stuffing the taco part of the evening, but a lady liked to show a little decorum.
Actually, bullshit to all of that. I was no lady, and I wasn’t about to fuck around and pretend I totally didn’t want this. I whipped my shirt up off over my head and was instantly rewarded. His hands landed on my bare skin, just above my waist, his smile widening, but it was his eyes that gave him away.
As I said, I was better-looking than a bag full of smashed crabs, but still, the reverential way he seemed to take in everything, including my black lacy bra that had seen a few too many washes, was goddamn validating. Right now, I was willing to assert that every woman needed to have a gorgeous guy look at her like this when almost naked. But before I could advocate for the betterment of mankind, he swooped in, trailing his lips and teeth down my neck, leaving a trail of sucking kisses.
“Fuck…” I hissed, my body feeling like it was on fire, burning in the wake of his lips. I raked my fingernails down his back, grabbing handfuls of his hair to the sounds of his groans.
“I need this bra off,” he rasped out. “I need to see you.”
“God, yes.”
I went to shuck the damn thing off, but he pushed one strap, then another off, following the fabric down to the swell of my breasts. He reached behind, expertly flicking open the clasp before just stopping and staring. Seconds ticked by, my arousal now competing with fear as he just stopped. But then he looked up with a wicked grin, looking like a kid in a lolly shop.
“Jesus, I couldn’t keep my eyes off these all damn night.” He watched my breath hitch as he covered one breast with his palm, catching the way my lips fell open as he pinched my nipple. “You’re fucking beautiful and lush—”
“No,” I said, frowning. I couldn’t hear that, not from him. I knew where I fit in the world, and those words did not apply.
“Oh yes,” he replied, then cupped my breast before dropping his head down, taking the aching nipple into his mouth.
“Oh fuck… Oh fuck…” I panted, a great bolt of lightning stabbing through my body, the intense sensation forcing my cunt to clench down on a frustrating emptiness. My hands went to his jeans, scrabbling to get the button open, to get to him.
“No,” he growled, grabbing my wrist tight when I persisted. “I’m already too fucking close, Bec.” He softened his words with a kiss. “I want you, want to be in your sweet little pussy so fucking bad, but unless you want me blowing my load in three short strokes, you gotta let me take care of you.” His fingers teased my nipples, then went to unbutton my shorts. “I want you on that bed, thighs wide, opening yo
urself to me right before I—”
“Yes,” I said with embarrassing gusto. “Just yes.”
I shimmied out of my shorts as he kicked off his work boots and jeans, revealing every woman’s dream. He was long but not too long, thick enough to make me wary and crave the stretch that was no doubt gonna come, and hard, dripping pre-cum. He’d told me not to touch, but damn if my palm didn’t itch to swivel my hand down his entire rigid length.
But it was the way he looked at me that was the real kicker. Maybe it was the rum or something, but his eyes took on a bright green cast in the low light, almost glowing? No, that couldn’t possibly be true, but… He redirected my attention back to the matter at hand.
“On the bed, love,” he said. “I can scent your need.”
Those were strange words, but my mind skated on past them as they weren’t the important ones. He herded me back, back until the backs of my legs hit the bed.