“I…uh…” My chest heaves as I battle for words. “It’s what your friends call you.”
His lips twitch. “Are you finally confirming that we’re friends, sweetheart?” He nudges his nose against mine, and the innocent touch sends my heart into overdrive.
“Maybe,” I hedge.
“Nice to know you’re warming up to me.”
My lips part to respond, but I don’t manage to get any words out, because his lips are back on mine, his tongue in my mouth as he devours me.
My fingers find the loose tie still hanging around his neck, and I quickly pull it free, abandoning it on the floor. I start work on his buttons next. It’s easier said than done as his hips and hands distract me, but I’m determined to get him as naked as I am.
I’ve seen him walking around the apartment half-dressed, but it’s never close to being enough. I need my hands on him; I need to experience every single hard inch of him properly.
The second the fabric is undone, I impatiently shove it from his shoulders. Because it fits him like a second skin, it gets stuck on his biceps, and I have to give it a bit of a tug to free it from his body, but I do. And only seconds later, he’s standing before me with his incredibly toned torso for the taking.
“Oh my god,” I mutter into our kiss as I blindly run my hands from his pecs all the way down to his waistband. It’s like he’s been carved out of stone.
Ripping my lips from his, I gaze down his body, taking in all the defined lines and taut muscles. But it’s not until I get to the most obvious one tenting his pants, that my mouth runs dry.
God, I want it. I want it so bad.
“You’re—”
“Nothing compared to you,” he finishes for me before gently shoving me forward, giving me little chance but to go tumbling onto the bed behind me.
I’m still bouncing as he reaches for his belt. I watch in awe as his fingers work the leather, before starting on his waistband.
My fingers curl in the sheets as he rips his pants open and shoves them down his legs.
His boxers are small and tight and show every-fucking-thing.
I knew this man was packing. I remember feeling it stretching me open that night. But feeling it and seeing it are two very different things.
I reach forward, desperate to feel him beneath my fingers, to see how small my hand looks wrapped around him, but he stops me.
“Hey, what are you?—”
“This isn’t about me, sweetheart,” he rasps as he threads our fingers together and drags my arm over my head, forcing me to lie back as he crawls on top of me. “You messaged me because you needed something, and I have every intention of delivering.”
With my legs on either side of his hips, he leans in close, ensuring that the steel rod I want so badly presses against my needy core.
I cry out, but it’s quickly stolen by his lips when he claims them once again.
His kiss is like fire licking into my mouth and scalding me right down to my toes.
I rock against him, trying to find the friction I need, but it’s not enough.
It will be, though. I have no doubt that this man is going to give me everything I need and then just maybe a little more that I didn’t even know was possible.
“Rett,” I cry again when his fingers find my nipple, pinching hard enough to send a shot of pain through me.
“Fucking love when you call me that,” he tells me before tucking his fingers beneath the lace of my bra and pulling the fabric free. “Fuck,” he murmurs, ducking low to suck my stiff peak into his mouth.
I knew they were more sensitive than before. I feel that every time I brush them against anything, but having his hot, wet mouth around me…it’s…it’s so much more than I expected.
My fingers twist in his hair as I try to decide if I want to pull him closer or drag him away.
It’s…it’s too much. It’s everything, and yet, it’s nowhere near enough, all at the same time.
