Falling.
Yeah, she’d done lost her damn mind. But she didn’t care. Maybe she would later, but now… “A touchdown. A hole in one. Nothing but net. However you wanna score.”
“A homerun?”
“Yeah, that, too.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you sure?” Avery asked. “’Cause we can wait until you’re feeling better.”
His hesitation surprised Jo. It shouldn’t have. She already knew there was more to him than he let most of the world see. That just as pride was her armor, the fun-loving bad boy exterior was his. She wasn’t sure what he was afraid of or if she even wanted to know, but right now, she was sure of one thing.
“I want this.” She wriggled in his arms, found the hem of her shirt, and swept it over her head, baring herself to him like the sacrificial virgin he’d once said he didn’t want. Hopefully, he wouldn’t realize he was about to get exactly that. She swallowed, but her mouth was as dry as her throat and offered no relief. “I want you.”
Her nipples peaked beneath the caress of his gaze, and she shivered as his tongue washed over his bottom lip, followed by the scrape of his teeth. She started to cover herself until the tree trunk in his pants nudged her belly.
Instead, she smoothed her palms over his biceps and shoulders. “Any day, now, fuckboy.”
A growl vibrated from his chest, and his mouth laid siege to hers in a clash of tongue and teeth. His hands roamed her back, the base of her spine, crushing her to him in a firm but gentle embrace.
In the next instant, he cupped the underside of her ass and lifted so that her pussy lined up with said tree trunk. She wrapped her legs around his hips and moaned as he struck off down the hall, each step sending a shock of hot pleasure through her.
Beside the bed, he broke the kiss, his breath as labored as hers. “I need to feel your skin against mine.”
All for that, Jo unhooked her ankles and savored the slide down his body. He reached behind his back to strip the shirt over his head and cursed a blue streak when the top button trapped him. Laughing, she took advantage and sought out those hot as fuck abs above jeans that rode low on his hips.
He didn’t seem to mind. Finally free, he chucked his shirt to the floor and watched her trembling fingers trek from one groove to another, up and over pecs and back down to the top of the V cut into his groin.
The desert in her mouth flooded as she peered up at him from under her lashes, nervous but determined. She slipped her fingers inside the waistband to unbutton his jeans. His stomach contracted, and his nostrils flared on a deep inhale. She freed the button. The grind of the zipper filled the room.
His cock flexed, parting the plackets, inviting her to touch him, but he caught her wrist before she could reach inside. “No.”
“But I owe you one.”
“Sorry, Legs.” He glanced down at the thick shadow behind his boxers. It jerked again. “This bad boy is tired of the five knuckle shuffle. He wants to party with your pussy.”
Heat stung her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “How can I want to kiss that mouth when it’s so filthy?”
“Maybe you like it dirty.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t know, but she trusted Avery to teach her. She lifted a brow. “Wanna fuck around and find out?”
“Abso—fucking—lutely.” He tossed her on the mangled bed, and her boots were off and over his shoulder in a heartbeat. Curling his fingers into the waistband of her jeans, he stripped them off in one move, her legs landing in a sprawl. “Whoa, what have we here?”
Jo shoved her hair from her face and levered onto her elbows, some of the laughter draining out of her. “Courtesy of my scissor-happy stalker? I thought you might like them.”
“Ah, Legs, I do. I really do.” He tilted his head from side to side, studying the crudely cut-out crotch and her exposed pussy. “But I want that pussy bare when I fuck you. I want to see and feel everything.”
Shuddering with the certainty of his words and the images they provoked, she denied the urge to close her legs. Instead, she let him look his fill while she did the same.
Sunlight from the curtainless window painted his abs and chest in golden tones while leaving his shoulders and face in shadow as he toed off his boots.
“And I’m gonna make you feel it, too.” His whiskey-deep voice drew her gaze to meet his, but only for a second as he thumbed the waistband of his jeans, readying to push them over his hips.
Bending at the waist, he shoved his jeans down, down, down those long legs. He kicked his pants aside, then ripped off his socks, and when he straightened, his dick—long, thick, and ruddy, with veins etching the shaft—stretched toward his navel.
He wrapped his fingers around it and stroked from base to tip and down again. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, Legs? You want to feel every fucking inch.”
