Chapter Twelve PAISLEY #2
I expected him to taunt me. When he didn’t, that was almost worse for the state of my body. His eyes searched my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
His voice broke through the echoing beat of my heart pounding in my ears. “What do you mean?”
“You look upset. Are you okay?”
I was upset because calls from my brother tended to do that these days.
I hated what I had lost because of my brother’s choices.
I was keeping secrets I didn’t want to keep.
I worried about him, and I was angry with him.
Occasionally, I worried about myself, but that was last on the list. I usually pushed that far out of my mind because it wasn't worth it.
I would take the risks to my own safety if only I had the power to change all the rest. I never talked about my brother with anyone because I couldn't.
But somehow, Russell's question and the concern evident in his eyes tapped into something in me. I heard myself answering, “Family stuff.”
Maybe that wasn't exactly confiding, but it was more than I offered to anyone. I suddenly felt vulnerable. Anger followed swiftly, my defenses rising. On the heels of that, I felt even more desperate for him to hold me close.
He nodded slowly. “Understood. Family has a way of getting to us in ways that no one else can. I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just the truth.”
My head bobbed up and down in agreement. I didn't notice when he lifted his hand, but the sensation sent filaments of fire through me when his fingertips brushed across my cheek. I didn't realize my hair had caught on my earring. He loosened it gently before saying, “There. It was tangled.”
That subtle touch practically undid me. I realized then that there was one surefire way to forget all my worries. Russell could deliver an escape.
It was crazy and stupid, but maybe it would be worth it because I wanted to forget so desperately. I needed to be delivered from the restless ache of needing him. Maybe diving into this was the only way out.
My feet moved closer. There were now maybe three inches separating us. Russell's eyes blinked as he looked down at me.
“It's not fair,” I murmured.
His lips curled in a grin, slow and sensual. “What's not fair?”
My belly was tingling and spun in flips as liquid need spread like wildfire through my veins. “Your eyelashes. They’re curly and thick.” It was nothing but the truth.
He chuckled. “I've never paid attention to them.”
“Well, you wouldn't,” I retorted, a prick of annoyance following.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
“Being reckless,” I replied, more honestly than was probably smart.
He cocked his head to the side, a glint entering his eyes. “What's reckless?”
Reality slapped me. Because I knew Russell was dangerous to me somehow or, rather, to my sanity, I stepped back abruptly. “Never mind.” I turned and started to make my way out of the kitchen when his voice caught me like a hook.
“What are you afraid of, Paisley?”
I spun back to face him, fury rising inside. My emotions were a jumble, and I wasn't thinking rationally. I was feeling too vulnerable.
“I'm not afraid of anything,” I insisted when I stepped back toward him.
I didn't know who kissed who first. But the next thing I knew, I was held fast against him, his lips were angling over mine, and I was moaning into our kiss.
His chest was everything—the muscled surface firm and his skin warm.
His mouth was magic. This kiss went from zero to one hundred within the lick of a flame.
His tongue swept into my mouth, and I was on my tippy toes as he held me against him.
One of my hands clutched a muscled shoulder as the other slid around his neck, and I held on tight.
Our kiss felt like a war. My annoyance at my fierce need for him only drove my frustration higher.
My reckless, unsettled state had me feeling feverish.
Russell kissed just as good as I remembered with deep sweeps of his tongue followed by him gentling before nipping at my lips and diving back in.
I had no idea how long we stood there, but somewhere along the way, he spun us around and pressed my back against the wall, which was absolutely perfect.
I could brace against it as I curled my legs around his hips and whimpered at the feel of his arousal pressing between my thighs.
He shoved my coat off my shoulders, and I tore my arms loose from the sleeves, gasping when I felt his palm slide under my T-shirt.
His touch was hot, a brand on my skin, and I trembled all over.
His calloused palm coasted over the curve of my belly, and he cupped a breast. My nipple was so tight I cried out when his thumb brushed over it.
Every nerve ending felt raw with almost unbearable sensitivity.
I had no idea how long we kissed until he broke free, and the sound of our ragged breathing ricocheted in the space.
I was on fire, so needy. I lost all shame.
I didn't care that I was annoyed with him or that this was stupid.
I needed him, and I needed only him. An orgasm with my favorite vibrator would not do the trick tonight.
“Paisley.” His gruff whisper had me lifting my heavy lids to stare into his eyes, dark with desire. “I thought you said this was stupid.”
“It is,” I whispered between ragged pants. “I still want you.”
He closed his eyes, his brow creasing as he took a shuddering breath before his gaze met mine again. “We work together, and we live together.”
“I don't care.” My caution had been incinerated in the fire of his kiss.
We stared at each other, and I could feel the rapid beat of his heart under my palm, which had landed on his chest somewhere along the way.
“Your room or mine?” he asked after a long moment.
I hadn't seen his room, and I was curious. “Yours.”
Russell never even put me down, which was so fucking sexy.
He held me easily as he walked us down the stairs.
I felt the friction of his hard arousal at the apex of my thighs with every step.
The subtle motion nearly brought me to climax.
I dipped my head and dragged my tongue along his collarbone, savoring the salty tang of his skin.
“Wait,” he murmured. “You're going to drive me crazy, Paisley.”
I loved how he made me feel alive and wild.
And, as if maybe, just maybe, this wasn't only me.
A moment later, we were walking into his space.
He nudged the light on with his elbow. It was basically a replica of my place.
I barely had time to absorb any details before he kicked open the door to his bedroom.
With another nudge of his elbow, a lamp came on in the corner.
My eyes snagged on the navy-blue down quilt, and then Russell was lowering me to the bed.
In one smooth move, his hand hooked the hem of my T-shirt and tossed it aside.
He let out a rough groan and cupped my breasts, dipping his head and dropping hot kisses in the valley between them.
Cool air struck my skin as he flicked the clasp on my bra.
With a shimmy, I slipped the straps free of my arms, and my bra was tossed to the floor.
I cried out at the feel of his warm mouth closing over a nipple and giving it a sharp suck. Each sensation collided with the next. My senses were scrambled with pleasure. He murmured hot words, dirty words, telling me I was beautiful, sexy, and so fucking hot.
“Boots gotta go,” he said, lifting his head before straightening and stepping back.
He shoved down the sweatpants he was wearing. My core clenched tight at the sight of him in fitted black briefs with his thick cock outlined. Staring at Russell was almost more than I could take. He cleared his throat.
“Oh.” I hurriedly shimmied to the edge of the bed and kicked off my boots.
He was ever helpful, unbuttoning my jeans and shoving them down.
In a hot second, I was lifted in the air, landing on the bed as he came down beside me.
I stared up at him, trying to catch my breath, trying to think.
His eyes coasted over me. His gaze was burning, leaving sparks in its wake on my skin.
“I knew you were dangerous,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.
“Dangerous?”
His eyes met mine as he nodded slowly.