“Shut up,” I mutter to the voice in my head.
His face falls and he lifts his hands off me and backs away.
“Not you,” I add quickly.
Be brave, Harley. You’re willing to get in the ring with three women on one night. You can survive anything. Don’t be such a wimp.
Before my bravado can waver, I grip his shoulders and haul him back to me. His lips slant over mine, and I attack his mouth with none of the gentleness he showed me, both angry and desperate at the same time. He meets my aggression with a tenderness that slows me down. His tongue strokes mine, stoking the fire within me hotter. His hands mold to my shape, melting me like butter. Then he pulls back and presses kisses to my temple, my cheeks, and my nose, before burying his face in the crook of my neck.
“So, that’s a yes to the making love?”
“Yes.”
“Thank fuck.”
Impressively fast, he moves to toss me over his shoulder. Automatically, I evade and counter, stopping just short of sweeping his legs out from under him.
He shakes his head in wonder. “Fuck, that’s hot.” He offers me a hand, and I thread my fingers through it. “Come on, you sexy ninja. Let’s go to bed.”
I follow him across the living area and into a bedroom that’s far from what I’m expecting. Cream-colored walls, drapes a masculine shade of green. A door to a bathroom that stands ajar and through which I can see a hot tub on the far wall. There are a couple of closets and some clothes strewn on the floor, but overall it’s minimalist and tidy. Hardly the den of sin I imagined. There’s not even a box of condoms on the nightstand, although I’m assuming he has them somewhere.
“Surprised?” he asks.
“A little.” I’m not too rigid to admit it.
Pivoting to face me, he sinks onto the edge of the bed, his knees spread as though inviting me to step into the V of them. “Wanna know what I was doing before you knocked?”
My gaze darts to the pillows, which are rumpled, and back to him. I press my legs together to quell the need to squirm. My voice is husky when I ask, “What were you doing?”
“Jacking off.” One of his hands slips inside his sweatpants and even though I can’t see it, I can perfectly picture it fisting around his cock. “While I thought about you.”
“Oh, God.” My pussy throbs. It’s wet, and he’s only making things worse. “Can I see?”
His eyes widen and his abs flex as he puts one hand behind himself and leans back, supporting his weight on it. “Yeah.”
With his other hand, he shoves his pants down, and his hard-as-granite erection slaps his lower belly. It’s dark and smooth and looks like it would feel amazing inside me. He curls his palm around it and pumps slowly, watching my face as he pleasures himself. I squeeze my thighs tightly together, moisture seeping between them.
“You like that,” he rumbles.
“Duh.” I pop one of my fingers into my mouth, then part my legs and slip it into my panties, slicking through the center of my folds. “I bet you like to watch, too.”
A groan tears from him. “No fair. You’re covered up, I’m not.”
Smirking, I slip one of the fingers inside me. “Who said I play fair?”
“God.Fuck.” He releases his dick as precum beads on the head. “Show me. Now.”
I tut. “Demanding.”
But I want to. I want to see the look in his eyes when he realizes he’s as helpless to the attraction blazing between us as I am, so I shimmy my panties down, and I’m about to pick up where I left off when I pause, suddenly self-conscious. I don’t know what Devon is used to, but I don’t wax. Frankly, I do enough to hurt myself and I’ve never seen the point. I trim, but maybe he’s used to landscaped Las Vegas babes.
“Keep going,” he urges, all lust and unfulfilled horniness. He doesn’t care. I stroke through the slickness of my own desire, marveling at how strange it feels to do something so private in plain view of someone else. The thrill of it has my pulse pounding. It’s naughty and freeing at the same time. “Come here.” He pats the bed beside him. “I need to kiss you again.”
I ditch my hoodie and yank my sports bra over my head, rendering myself completely naked, and his eyes damn near pop out of their sockets.
“Where were you hiding those?”
Grinning, I glance down. I’m not well-endowed, but for an athlete, I’ve got more going on than most. I’ve never been one of those girls who feels the need to show them off. In a training environment, it’s better if the men think of me as one of their own, and having tits in their face tends to ruin that. But now, I’m grateful for them.
