Page 44 of 10 Things I Hate About Mistletoe

Are you fucking kidding me? That’s what she’s believed for the better part of a year?

“You thought I stopped kissing you because I didn’t want you?”

Her gaze swept his face, her voice rushing out breathlessly. “You didn’t, did you?”

“I did.” Anthony’s pulse quickened as he admitted out loud what he’d been holding in since the first time he’d kissed her, tasting whiskey and heat on her lush mouth. Anthony crowded Delilah, his hands cradling her jawline, stroking her soft skin with his thumb. “Stopping that kiss was the most painful experience of my life. Do you have any idea the thoughts running through my head when you climbed onto my lap?”

“What?” she whispered.

Fuck, he wanted to show her, but he needed to get it out. To give her a chance to run. He brought his mouth against the shell of her ear and told her the truth. “I wanted to lift you onto that bed, rip off your pants, and bury myself in your pussy.”

Anthony felt her shiver. “You … you did?

“Fuck yes, I did.” His mouth grazed her skin along her cheek, just above his fingertips. “I still do.”

Delilah moaned, swaying toward him, and his hands left her cheeks to thread through her hair, her mouth hovering mere inches from his.

“Then do it.”

Chapter Twelve

Well, she’d asked for it.

Anthony’s mouth covered Delilah’s at a slant, the pressure hard and intense from the very beginning. She opened hers, allowing him access inside, and he took her invitation, sweeping his tongue along hers, his fingers tightening in her hair. Delilah was mush, letting him take control, his ministrations passionate and hungry, and suddenly, she craved more. She gripped his sides and scooted closer, her breast flattening against the wall of his chest, and he nipped at her bottom lip, drawing a little gasp from Delilah when Anthony released his hold on the right side of her head and slipped his hand underneath her sweatshirt.

His fingertips glided over her skin softly, grazing the band of her sports bra, distracting her from his kiss. Anthony’s thumb gained entrance underneath the elastic, and she arched her back, wanting his hand over her breast, cupping her, and kneading her flesh. She lifted her sweatshirt from the bottom, breaking their contact to yank the heavy pink cotton over her head. The tinted windows kept them hidden from the outside world, and Delilah climbed onto Anthony’s lap in the passenger seat, straddling him. He lifted the tight spandex of her sports bra over her breasts, releasing them from the confines, and she raised her arms, signaling him to dispose of the constricting bra. He whipped it over her head and flung it across the truck’s cab.

When Anthony’s hands covered her flesh, giving her exactly what she wanted and more, Delilah leaned into his touch. He turned his hat backward, the brim no longer shadowing his eyes, and they glittered in the low lighting. Delilah wanted to feel his mouth under hers, every part of them connected from their lips down. She wrapped her arms around Anthony’s shoulders when he caressed her, his fingers molding her shape before they gripped her in the most exquisite grasp. She ripped her mouth from his, their noses touching as she chanted, “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck, Lila,” he murmured against her lips, and the new nickname sent a tingle down her spine. “You’re so fucking beautiful. You like it hard, don’t you, baby?” Anthony’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her neck, and her pussy spasmed.

When she felt the push of his palm against her abdomen, she leaned back, and he took full advantage of the access she’d given him to cover her right nipple with his mouth, tonguing her until it peaked. Anthony tormented the erect, sensitive nub while his other hand squeezed her left breast, rolling the taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Liquid heat pooled between her legs, and she rocked against him in an attempt to ease the throbbing ache. She could feel her panties saturating with her arousal, her center pulsating with intense need, and she wanted more.

Anthony suddenly deposited her off his lap, and she landed across the bench seat on her back, gasping when he stayed on the passenger side and slipped his finger into the top of her leggings, then tugged them down her body until they got caught on the top of her tennis shoes. As he untied her laces, she realized he hadn’t removed a single piece of clothing, not even his hat, and vulnerability settled in the pit of her stomach. Her hands came up to cover her body, but he grabbed her hands, pinning them to the seat.

“Why are you hiding from me?” he asked.

“You’re dressed, and I’m naked.”

Anthony grinned, his hooded gaze traveling over her slowly. “And?”

“Are you going to take your clothes off?”

Anthony lifted her hands and placed them up above her head, her breasts rising with the motion, and his eyes lingered there. When he finally met her gaze again, the shadows across his face disappeared as lights flashed across the windshield, but he didn’t move. Anthony stared down at her, his lips parted into a feral smile.

“I’m not fucking you tonight, Lila, so I’m not taking off a damn thing. I’m going to strip you down until there’s nothing between my mouth and your skin.” He licked along the column of her neck, and she moaned, arching her back as tingles gathered in the muscles above her tailbone. “Your glorious tits.” She flexed her hands, but Anthony held them tight as he licked and sucked each nipple, circling them with his tongue, his mouth opened wide as he dragged the entire width of it over her, and Delilah cried out, squeezing her legs together as her pussy bucked.

Anthony kissed his way back up through the valley between her breasts, and when he brushed his mouth over hers, his words rushed over her lips in a hot, guttural growl. “I know what you want.” He circled her wrists with his one hand and trailed his fingers down her body slowly, over her breasts and her stomach, settling just above the juncture of her thighs until she was gritting her teeth with frustration. Anthony gave her a sweet kiss against her jawline as his hand plunged between her legs. Delilah released a breathy “Oh” when his finger slid up her seam, teasing her labia. When he bit down on her bottom lip, she thrust her hips against his hand in desperate need.

“Please,” she groaned, and Anthony chuckled, his chest vibrating against her.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Finger me,” she begged.

“Mmm, that might be what you want, but what I want is much better.”

His finger lifted from her sensitive folds, and she gasped, struggling to reach for him.