Chapter 12 #3
He nodded. “Do too. Almost had to go sleep in another room. It was like spooning with a grizzly.”
“We didn’t spoon,” she said indignantly.
He lifted up onto one shoulder and rolled over to face her. “Yes, we did. You may have passed out right away, but later in the night, you snuggled up next to me and told me in your drunken lady mumble that you were cold and wanted to spoon.”
“I DID NOT!”
He gave her a look of impatience. “Why is this something I would lie about?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know.”
“What do you know?” His voice took on a silky-smooth purr as his hand skimmed across the sheets and landed on her belly. She covered his hand with hers, but he pulled it away and made to push his fingers beneath the waistband of her pajama pants.
“In your mother’s house?” she hissed. The idea of getting freaky in his childhood home, in his childhood bedroom, equal parts turned her on and terrified her.
But as always, her libido won out.
“I’m in charge tonight,” she said confidently.
“Krista … ” he hummed, his voice stirring embers of arousal inside her into tall, licking flames.
“You shanghaied me into coming to Christmas dinner with your family, when your mother didn’t even know about me. You owe me.”
He was quiet for a moment, but then she was pretty sure she heard a barely discernible, “Fine.”
Yes.
She swallowed. The power tasted divine on her tongue. “What was that?”
He cleared his throat. “I said fine.”
She had to keep herself from laughing. Some nights he willingly gave up the power, like that night by the fire, though he got anal sex out of it, so it wasn’t really an exchange of power. But then other nights he was reluctant. It was nights like these that made Krista’s inner dominatrix come out.
She knew that the power struggle between them was going to be ongoing, at least for as long as they decided to continue sleeping together.
They both liked to be in charge in the bedroom and had a hard time (especially him) relinquishing that control.
And even though they’d never really sat and discussed it, because they never sat and discussed anything, she appreciated that he was willing to give it a try, at least for a little while.
Then the thought occurred to her: Could she get him to open up while she was in control? Ask him questions, demand he answer her? Or would he shut down and call the whole damn thing off? Was it worth risking no orgasm for information?
Or she could pump Joy for information on Brock. Corner each of his brothers and make them dish the dirty deets.
She’d have to stew on it a bit.
“You know how hard this is for me, right?” he said quietly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed and ground his molars to control his nerves.
She nodded solemnly. “Yes, I know.”
He licked his lips. “W-what would you like me to do?”
Grinning in triumph, Krista pushed him over onto his back and then sat up, looping one of her legs over his hips until she was sitting on top of him, straddling him.
“I want some answers,” she said, running her hands up his hard stomach until her thumbs and fingers rested over each of his nipples. “I’m tired of being shut out. I’m going to ask you four questions, and you have to answer three. Deal?”
As if sticking a fork in an electrical socket, his whole body jolted, and the man went ramrod straight. Were four questions too many? Should she have started with two?
“Deal?” she asked again, tugging ever so slightly on his nipples.
All he could do was nod.
“Good. Question number one: What is your favorite color?”
He already appeared bored. She tugged up hard on his nipples until he clenched his teeth and sucked in air.
“Fuck,” he gritted.
“They’re my questions, and I’ll make them as invasive or benign as I please. Got it?”
He swallowed.
“Got it?” she tugged up even harder on his nipples. He hissed but managed to grind out a barely discernible “yes.”
“Good. Now answer the question.”
His gaze landed on hers. “Blue … like your eyes.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Damn, the man could be seductive.
“Hmm,” she hummed, averting her gaze, not wanting him to see how his words affected her. “Interesting answer. I’m guessing there’s a certain part of your anatomy turning a shade of blue too.”
He bucked up beneath her. “Probably.”
She chuckled. “Then answer the questions more promptly so we can fix that. Question number two: What is your best memory?”
As if the man’s body couldn’t get any more rigid. His face turned an almost unhealthy shade of white, and he shifted beneath her.
“Remember, you only need to answer three of the four,” she said softly, worried that she might have pushed too hard too quickly.
“Christmas when I was ten,” he whispered.
“My dad had it off. We were all home. Heath was only two but the size of a four-year-old. It snowed like crazy that year. He tossed all of us into a huge sled, and we went tobogganing. Then we all, my parents included, slept in the living room that night in front of the fire in our new Ninja Turtles sleeping bags.”
She couldn’t quite tell, because he was looking anywhere but at her face and the room was dark, but the reflection off the clock on the nightstand glimmered in his eyes, and she could have sworn there were tears.
“Which Ninja Turtle were you?”
“Leonardo,” he said, his voice hitching just a tad.
She struggled not to giggle. Krista didn’t giggle. “Of course. The responsible, serious one. Makes sense.”
“Also the smart one,” he added wryly.
“Donatello was smart too. The techie nerd.”
“That’s Chase.”
She hummed softly and ground her pelvis against his erection. “And let me guess, Heath was Michelangelo. And Rex was Raphael?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She licked her lips and swirled her hips again. “Leonardo was always my favorite. For a turtle, he was sexy.”
His hands came up and he gripped her hips, forcefully pulling her down onto his lap so she could feel just how hard, how turned on he was.
She felt the same way. Sitting atop Brock, riding him, even with fabric between them, was her favorite place to be these days.
The way he looked at her as they both reached climax stole the oxygen clear from her lungs and made her whole body vibrate and burn.
She sobered and stopped her hip swirls, despite how strong his grip was on her hips and how much he was encouraging her to continue.
“Okay, next question. What is the most reckless thing you’ve ever done?
You’re so responsible, so … grown up, what’s one thing you’ve done that is so out of character you didn’t even recognize yourself when you were doing it? ”
His lips curled up into a diabolical smile. “That’s the fourth question. I don’t have to answer it.” Her mouth opened in protest, but he cut her off. “Favorite color, best memory, ninja turtle, this question.”
Shit, he was right.
Making a mock pout with her lips, she glared down at him. “Fine.”
Suddenly, she found herself up and off him and flipped over onto her back, her arms pinned above her in one of his hands.
“Damn, you really are a ninja.”
That smile was back. The man didn’t smile often, but when he did, holy hell. “Marry me, Krista.”
She exhaled loudly and motioned to push him off her, even though her efforts proved to be futile. It was like trying to move stone.
Way to kill the mood, dude.
“Don’t ask me that again until you’re head-over-heels, can’t-imagine-your-life-without-me, in love with me, okay? Because until that’s how you feel, my answer will always be no.”
His head dipped, and he took a nipple through her nightshirt into his mouth. She squeaked, followed by a groan from the blooming heat that spread through her chest and zoomed down between her legs.
“I do feel things,” he said softly, lifting his head and gazing down at her.
Krista’s eyes went wide. “But if you’re not willing to agree to marry me right now, can we at least make each other feel good …
as per our arrangement?” Levering himself onto one arm, he released her hands and went to work tearing off her pajama pants and relieving her of her shirt.
She was already panty-free, so once the pants were off, she was bare.
She smiled. “We can definitely do that.”
His grin widened, and his eyes morphed from green to black in two seconds flat. He cupped her face and brought his lips down to hers.
The kiss was slow and romantic. A kiss that she wasn’t used to getting from this feral sex beast. Normally his mouth smashed down onto hers and his tongue challenged hers to a dance-off.
But this kiss was gentle and so full of emotions that she had to suppress the lump that was forming in her throat.
His hands traveled down her neck and body, cupping her butt and pulling her up to him, urging her to rock against him, accept him into her body.
They both moaned as he finally entered her. The perfect fit.
His chest rumbled, and she was granted another rare smile before his teeth found her neck and his thrusts picked up vigor.
Harder and harder he hammered into her, the sounds of their heavy breathing and bellies slapping the only noises in the room.
And then, even though she was close to combustion, she couldn’t help the fleeting thought that interrupted her brain—thank God the mattress wasn’t squeaky, because they’d never hear the end of it in the morning.
“I … I’m close,” she panted, angling her head back into the pillows as his teeth raked down the vein. The vein that pumped her hot-for-him blood.
“Me … too.” He grunted.
“Look at me,” she ordered. “I’m still in charge. Look at me.”