Page 136 of Lucky Shot

“I want that feeling. I want to be able to make someone feel how I felt when he used to look at me. It’s stupid and weird but I fear that with my lifestyle, with the attention I’ve brought to myself, that I’ll never get the chance to feel that way or make someone else feel that way.” I draw in a sigh and strip my shirt over my head.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Trying to entice you with these rock-hard abs so that we can change the subject.”

“I’m not complaining. But for the record, my biggest fear is that I’ll never know what a normal family feels like.”

Of all the things I didn’t have, at least I had that for ten years. There’s that for sure. “You will. I’m sure of it.” I put my hands on the handles. “Ready?”

I win this round. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s toying with me by letting me win one so my ego isn’t bruised.

“Yes.” I pump a fist. “And if you let me win, don’t say a word otherwise. Now, my turn.” I smack my hands together and rub them. “What is your guilty pleasure?”

Her grin is lightning quick, and her eyes dip below my waistband.

“I can make that happen,” I murmur.

“That’s for later.” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “True crime documentaries. Cannolis with mini chocolate chips in the ends. Sleeping in.”

“Not exactly what I thought you were thinking, but those are all very feasible things.”

“Oh, and orgasms. The second time around because they’re always more intense than the first one.”

I bark out a laugh. “If that wasn’t laying down the gauntlet, I don’t know what is.” But hell if I’m not already stooping over to pick it up.

She lifts her brows and rounds the foosball table. “What’s yours?”

“Sunsets with palm trees overhead. Snickerdoodle cookies. Oh, and giving second orgasms.”

Her smile is a slow slide of seduction as she leans over the table, picks up the ball, and purposely deposits it in my goal. “Ask me a question, Hardy.”

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“How I want to walk on the wild side.”

Fffuucckk.

“Pretty sure I can arrange for that to happen.” I step forward and run a hand down the center of her chest. I love the hitch in her breath. The parting of her lips. The widening of her eyes.

“Then get to it.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Hardy

We move together like a couple familiar with each other but still learning at the same time. I know exactly how she’ll sound if I kiss just beneath her ear, but there are so many other places I want to explore—to lick, to kiss, to pleasure—so that I can learn what her reaction will be.

The walk is short to my bedroom. We leave clothing as we go, and our laughter and moans float down the hallway.

I pull her against me, her back to my front, because the feel of her ass pressed up against my cock is the best fucking torture a man could ask for. Plus it allows me easy access to kiss her neck, to palm her tightly budded nipples, and to dip my fingers into the wetness of her pussy.

And I do all those things. I tease and I taunt and I lick and I finger fuck until her giggles become sighs and her sighs become moans.

“On your knees, Whit,” I say, pushing her onto the bed but holding her hips up and in place. She does as she’s told, giving me a view no man can resist. Wet pussy. Tight arse. Spread thighs glistening with her arousal. “Fuck.”

“You going to show me all your moves?” she teases and then yelps as I dip down, bury my nose in her arse, and slip my tongue between her slick folds.

She tastes like heaven. Like sin. Like mine.