And he still hasn’t let go of my shirt.
He throws a pointed look at the hot-pink rabbit still jumping around on the floor, though she’s losing power, dying fast. It’s the only toy I brought, and now I’m gonna have to use my fingers, and they sure as shit don’t vibrate. “Don’t you have someone to do that for you?”
I throw my shoulders back, judo-chopping his wrist to lose his grip. It doesn’t work. “I don’t need someone to do it for me. I do it myself just fine.”
“No? No boyfriend?”
“If I had a boyfriend, would I have kissed you?”
A slow smirk spreads. God, arrogance looks so hot on him. “So you admit you were an equal participant in that kiss.”
“I—” I point my nose toward the ceiling. “I admit nothing.”
“That’s too bad,” he purrs. “Remember when you told me I should work on saying what I’m thinking?” His grip on my shirt tightens, soft cotton slipping against my skin, revealing more of my body as he walks forward, pushing me backward. “I’m thinking I wanted to kiss you, and I’m thinking you wanted me to. I’m thinking you enjoyed the hell out of it, before you told yourself you shouldn’t, and then you got scared.”
I gasp when my back hits the wall. Garrett’s turquoise eyes fall to my lips.
“What’s the matter, Jennie? Where’s all that confidence gone? Nowhere to hide?”
I bite into my bottom lip to quell its quiver when Garrett slides one large hand along the edge of my jaw, angling my face toward his. His other hand lands on the edge of my thigh, fingertips blazing a forest fire along my skin as they trail up, up, toying with the hem of my shirt.
“I think you came up here to touch yourself while thinking about everything that could’ve happened if you hadn’t run, and I think…” His ragged breath dances across my lips, gaze searing. “I think I’d like to help you. I think you want me to help you.”
“Garrett,” I whimper, trembling as his lips ghost over mine.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Just like that. That’s exactly how you sounded when you moaned my name.”
I lift my chin and lick my lips, eyelids fluttering closed as I wait.
And wait.
The heat of his body is replaced by the cool chill of rejection as he releases me, his smirk nothing short of smug pride when my eyes flip open, and he steps backward.
“I’d sure hate to misread the signs though. So if I’m right, if you want my help…” He skims a thumb across his rugged jawline, scraping the stubble that wasn’t there two days ago. “You’ll have to be explicitly clear.”
A growl rumbles in my throat, and before I have time to comprehend my actions, I’ve thrown myself at his chest and buried my fingers in his hair. He clasps my ass, lifting me to him, my legs winding around his waist as my back collides with the wall.
The way his mouth takes mine is nothing short of possessive, ownership in its purest, most simple form. He can have my mouth, and just about any other part of me right now, and I don’t even know why I’m willing to give it to him.
Heels digging into his ass, I spur him on, pulling a groan from his throat as I arch against him. I’m hot and wet and I’ve never wanted anything the way I want Garrett right now.
Pinning me to the wall with his hips, he tears my shirt over my head. Never have I seen something as ferocious as his scorching gaze as it drags over me, lighting every nerve ending on fire in its wake. With a fistful of my hair, he buries his face in my neck, his warm mouth teasing, nipping, leaving a wet trail as it glides.
“Are you gonna let me take care of you tonight, sunshine? ’Cause it’s all I can fucking think about.”
God, yes. I drag his mouth back to mine, right where I want it. His tongue sweeps inside, exploring, tasting, taking. I want more, and it’s been so damn long since I’ve wanted anything, since I’ve felt like somebody wanted me—just me—this much.
Dropping me to my feet, he grips the back of my neck, spins me around, and presses me to the wall. Fingers dance over my hip, my belly, until his delicate touch kisses the spot I ache most, and I claw at the wall as tears of desperation prickle.
I don’t want the teasing; I just want him to fingerbang me into next year. Is that too much to ask?
So I beg a raspy, “Please,” when he traces the inside of my quivering thighs.
“Tell me what you want, Jennie.”
“Touch me,” I whisper, hanging my head. His grip on my neck tightens, forcing my eyes to his over my shoulder. “Please, Garrett.”
He skims my clit, pulling a shaky burst of air from my lips. “Here?”
“Fuck, yes,” I gasp as he strokes me slowly.
“Jesus, you’re wet.” His tongue slides up the length of my neck. “So fucking wet.” He sinks two fingers inside me and smiles against my shoulder when I cry out. “You gonna let me fuck this pussy one day?”
“Holy shit,” I cry. The dirty talk is doing me in, paired with the touch of another person, intimacy I’ve craved for so long, even if I’ve been denying it. “Who are you?”
His low chuckle sends shivers down my spine. Releasing my neck, he presses two fingers to my clit. “I can’t wait to feel you come on my fingers.”
“Fuck.” I grip his hand, lacing our fingers, pulling him closer and pushing him away all at once. He shoves a knee between my thighs, spreading them wider, and thrusts his fingers deeper, harder, taking me further than I’ve ever been able to take myself. “Garrett.”
His fingers move quickly, pushing me closer to that edge, the one I want him to throw me right over.
And does he ever throw me over it. Brings me up that peak, drags me right to the edge, and when he looks me in the eye and demands come, he tosses me over and watches me free-fall into oblivion, buckling at the knees.
Without missing a beat, Garrett winds an arm around my waist and tosses me to the bed. His knees hit the mattress as he tears his shirt over his head, and he crawls toward me, hitting me with a wink that has the heartbeat between my legs pounding.
“Do you want me to taste you, Jennie?” He taps my knees and they fall open for him. “’Cause I wanna fuckin’ taste you.”
I can’t answer, but he’s not waiting. He shoves his arms below my legs, grabs my hips, and yanks me down the mattress. Our eyes lock and his mouth descends right as I forget my own name.
“Oh shit,” I weep behind my palm. He wrenches my hand away in time for his name to come ripping up my throat as his fingers pierce through me, tongue flicking, mouth sucking.
Peering up at me with a smile so broad, so handsome, so fucking wicked, he licks his lips. “My name sounds so much better coming from that mouth when you’re screaming it for an entirely different reason.”
His thumb replaces his mouth on that swollen nub as he drags his lips up my torso, then licks an achingly slow path around one taut nipple. “These tits are fuckin’ perfect. Perfect tits, perfect pussy.” He pulls one nipple between his teeth, tongue swirling before he pops off, presses a searing kiss to my mouth, and disappears between my legs again.
Garrett’s mouth is exactly how I imagine heaven, warm and incredible, like sunshine between my thighs, utter perfection that forces my fingers into his hair, urging him closer. Each lash of his tongue is fluid, the thrusts of his fingers deep and powerful, and his eyes meet mine as he sucks my clit into his mouth.