“We’ve still got more making up to do,” I mumbled, lightly nuzzling her nose with mine.
“You mean you’ve still got more groveling to do?” Rosie corrected. “Because I still haven’t gotten over the latest fuckup. Three orgasms don’t equal forgiveness, O’Shea.”
My smile widened. “It would for me. I already see that I’m gonna be the easygoing one in this relationship, and you’re gonna be a nightmare. Way I see it, Ro, is that there’s no better way for me to show you how I feel about you than giving you multiple orgasms.”
“Jesus,” she said under her breath. “You’re going to kill me. I can see the headlines now. Death by dick.”
A burst of laughter left me, and my heart swelled.
I was a goner for Rosie Woods, and I had been for three years. I was going to fuck up along the way, I mean, it was me after all, but I knew that as long as we worked at things, we’d be okay because against all the odds, I’d finally found the one woman in the world who could settle my ass down and keep my attention.
Now I just needed to show Rosie that I was here to stay.
CHAPTER 18
DONOVAN
Ilooked down at my hand, which right then was grasping my dick, and examined how hard it had gotten. After last night, I was shocked to shit that The General had been able to rear his head again, especially since we’d fucked twice more over the course of the night.
I assumed The General would lie low for at least twenty-four hours, but just listening to Posy singing along to Mariah Carey in the shower had made him stir with interest, and against all odds, he was raring to get back on maneuvers because my woman was just that smoking hot.
Her face and body were so fucking incredible that just the thought of her in my bed gave me a half-chub. Rosie was fucking sexy, with zero inhibitions, and was so confident about her body that she had no problem with walking around buck-ass naked and just letting it all hang out, which I fucking loved.
I heard the shower turn off just as the song came to an end.
“Rosie,” I called out. “Do you think I should get my dick pierced?”
I heard her laugh softly, then the door opened and she walked into the bedroom with her wet hair hanging down herback and a short, fluffy pink towel wrapped around her lush body.
“Fuck!” I muttered, my eyes drinking her in and totally forgetting that I had my hand still wrapped around my dick.
Her eyes lowered before sliding back up to my eyes, then she came to a stop and popped her hip. “Are you having fun there?”
I shot her what I hoped was a sexy wink rather than a creepy one. “Just playin’. Wanna join?”
She cocked her head, her gaze turning wicked as it rested on my dick. “Seems a shame to waste it, but I’m having trouble walking today, let alone fucking.” Slowly, she moved toward me. “As for your question, what kind of piercing were you thinking of?”
I shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
She smirked and hitched a pretty eyebrow. “I was thinking of getting my nipples pierced, too.”
A groan escaped my throat. The mere thought of Rosie’s beautiful tits pierced made my cock twitch in my hand, and I muttered, “Fuck!”
She padded toward me, and my mouth went dry as her hand went to the knot in her towel. Then, in a low, seductive voice, she murmured, “I was thinking of getting little gold hoops threaded through my nipples.” The towel dropped to the floor, leaving her body completely exposed as she climbed onto the bed and knee-walked toward me. One shapely, tanned leg slid across my waist, and she straddled my body. “What do you think? We could go and get it done together.”
I thought for a moment. “Okay, but we'll go to a place where they have male and female piercers. Don’t want some guy’s hands on you.”
“Suits me.” She leaned forward to kiss me lightly on the mouth and whispered, “I don’t exactly relish the thought of another woman’s hands on you either.”
I flattened my palms against her tits and rubbed her nipples gently with my thumbs, watching Rosie’s mouth curve upward. She reached behind and trailed her fingers across my cock, which by that point was so hard that it resembled a steel bar.
“This is getting out of hand, O’Shea,” she teased. “I don’t think we can keep up this kind of pace. At some point, we’ll both collapse and not get up again. We’ve got kids to raise.” She leaned over me until her damp hair hung around us like a sheet, and for a split second, I wondered how it was even possible for two people to fit together so perfectly, and how the fuck I didn’t beat doors down to get to her three years ago.
“You’re trouble,” I grunted against her neck.
“I’mtrouble?” she returned, grinning down at me. “Actually, O’Shea, you’re right, but I’m fun trouble.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “What you are is my kind of trouble.”
