“Now I really want to hear it.” I grinned, intrigued.
“Would you now?” she teased, arching a brow. She was close enough to touch—we were separated by just a hair’s breadth. “I can think of a better way to occupy our time.”
I knew what she was insinuating, and my cock jumped eagerly at the sultry way she looked at me. Weighing the pros and cons of this decision was easy.
Pro—she was hot, in thatreallysexy, dirty librarian way. Something about her piqued my interest, and she’d said she wasn’t in a place for a relationship either. The expectations were laid out before me: one night of allowing myself to escape in her.
But there were plenty of cons, too. While she mightsaythat she wasn’t looking for a relationship, she could change her mind—or maybe, she didn’t know it herself. Women were fickle creatures—they often did the opposite of what they said, or at least the women in my experience had.
Then her eyes dropped to my mouth, and she slowly licked the seam of her luscious red lips, the sinful action overriding every reasonable thought in my head. Instead, all I could concentrate on was how badly I wanted her.
I stepped toward her and kissed her without thinking, the same way one pulls oxygen into their lungs. You need oxygen to breathe, and at that moment, I needed to taste her lips.
She responded in kind, her tongue dancing with mine, a moan resounding deep in her throat. Her hands fisted my shirt, dragging me against her. I backed her into the doorway, my hand tangling in her hair. Everything ignited within me, and I felt more alive than I had in years. She tasted like tequila and apples—her lips needy and tongue searching. Her hand rubbed against my straining erection, and I released a low growl.
“Take that peep show inside!” An old woman’s irritated voice snapped. We both looked over, seeing the door on the other side of the hall wide open. An elderly, angry-looking woman with long silver hair pulled back in a loose braid glowered at us from the doorway of her apartment.
“Sorry Mrs. Hewitt!” Gwen apologized, her cheeks burning. The woman let out an irritated grumble before she slammed her door, leaving us alone once more. “The joys of apartment life.” She rolled her eyes.
My cock rubbed the zipper of my jeans, and I couldn’t help but push against her a little. My efforts earned me a wicked grin, and she bit her lip. Her hand dropped to my chest, her fingers gripping the material of my shirt as she turned, dragging me the rest of the way into her apartment.
She closed the door with her back, pulling me toward her. Our lips met, and our tongues tangled for dominance. As shy as she’d seemed at first, Gwen wasn’t holding back. She matched me, kiss for frantic kiss and touch for desperate touch.
“Where’s your bedroom?” I growled.
“Down the hall,” she managed, tugging my buckle free and popping the button on my jeans in the same breath. Somehow, we got there, taking lots of breaks along the way to peel off clothing and slam each other against the walls in the hallway. By the time we made it to her bedroom, Gwen had lost her shirt, and I’d lost mine.
My pants were unbuckled, and they’d loosened with every move we’d made. I kicked them off and stood before her in my black boxer briefs, my hand pressing down on my straining erection as I watched her step from her jeans.
Gwen revealed a red lace thong that matched her bra. The contrast of red against her creamy skin was mesmerizing. She stood slowly, and I swallowed hard, my attention lost to her. Underneath her layers, she was even hotter, and I was surprised to see she had a few tattoos of her own.
They’d been covered by her clothes, but now that she stood before me in only lacy lingerie, I had ample view of them. A blood-red long-stemmed rose sat just above her left hip on the flat planes of her smooth, pale stomach, a jackalope in a bed of spring flowers and greenery was inked on her right thigh, and she had a sparrow sketched just below her right collarbone.
While I drank her in, she was busy reciprocating. Her dark gray eyes blazed across my chest, and her tongue darted to lick her lips. “Wow. Okay, so wow.”
“What?” I asked, looking down. I’d always been in shape, but after Cheryl left, I started working out more regularly, just to occupy my mind and body, and to burn off some of the anger I felt about the way things had turned out.
Gwen’s eyes blazed with appreciation as they raked across the designs of the full sleeve tattoos on my arms. She stepped toward me, spreading her palms against my chest, her skin hot against mine.
The soft pads of her fingers traced the bio-mech gear and piston design on the left side of my neck before slowly exploring all the other random pieces I’d gotten over the years. As her hands glided over my skin, her touch awakened every nerve ending in my body.
She bit her lip, grinning up at me. “You should model if you don’t already. You’d look great on a book cover,” she said before pressing her lips to mine. She kissed me once, then nipped playfully at my lips.
My cock jumped against her abdomen, and I dropped my hands to grip her hips, dragging her against me, pulling my mouth away to look down at her incredible body.
“Well, you’d look great spread out on a mattress,” I retorted, smirking.
She laughed richly, her cheeks dimpling, and stood on her tip-toes to press her lips to mine. Our lips fusing and moving together with a sense of familiarity should have had me putting the brakes on the whole thing. But then, Gwen’s hands slid around the nape of my neck, and her breasts rubbed against my chest. I could feel her hardened nipples through the lace, and it drove me past reason.
I wanted her. Badly.
Lifting her, I cupped her ass with my hands and carried her the rest of the way to her room. I broke our kiss to deposit her onto the mattress. She bounced back against it, her tits swaying, but before I could climb on top of her, she was sitting up and grabbing the waistband of my boxer briefs, tugging them down over my hips. My cock sprang up, almost smacking her in the face.
I chuckled lowly when her eyes widened with surprise. “You’re fucking massive, too,” she exclaimed in disbelief. She paused, staring at my dick.
“Everything all right down there?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s grand. Massive. Erm,” she cleared her throat and looked up at me. “Alaric? Before we do this, I need to know—you’re not crawling with STIs, right? Because that’s a hard no for me, even if you look like a Nordic god.”
