Chapter 14 Arrow #2
“I believe every word you’ve told me.” I stand and pull her toward me. “If you’ve missed something or forgotten something, it’s not because you want to deceive me. I believe that. I believe you, Annie.”
She lowers her forehead to my chest, and we stand together in Crow’s bedroom.
We’re holed up in a motorcycle club compound hiding out from a threat we can’t fight because we can’t find it.
We’re sitting ducks, and if there’s one thing I refuse to do, it’s stand by and let bad shit come to me. To someone I care about. To Annie.
“Tomorrow,” I tell her. “We go to your father. We go back to that school. We confront Neveah and anyone and everyone we have to until we get answers. I’m done running. And I’m not going to let anyone chase you ever again.”
Annie crawls under the covers in the same cupcake pajamas as the night before.
I’m already there waiting. I’m doing some research on my phone, trying to find anything I can about Annie’s adviser, June Crossard, and any scandals associated with the art school, but that’s been a dead end.
I was about to start digging into Annie’s father when she came back from brushing her teeth.
“Want to watch something?” she asks softly, leaning her head against my shoulder.
“Your choice.” I hand her the remote, and she flips through the channels, finally landing on a baking competition show.
“Do you bake?” I ask, settling back and expecting to watch some British people make jokes I don’t understand while they make cakes I’ve never tried. I don’t tell Annie, but I’ve watched every episode of every season of this show. Sometimes it’s nice to take a break from life and crime, you know?
She points to the cupcakes on her shorts. “This is as close as I get to baking anything. Eating, on the other hand…”
She reaches out a hand and trails her fingers along my forearm. I lift that arm, and she cuddles against my side. We watch the opening credits of the show and get through the bit at the beginning where the hosts rib one another, when Annie looks up at me intently.
“Babe,” she whispers. “Are you into this show?”
I rumble out a laugh. “I’ve already seen every episode. I like to decompress to food TV.”
Her eyes light up, and she pokes me in the ribs. “I had no idea. Do you bake?”
“Fuck no. That’s part of the fun, though. This is shit I’d never, ever do. It doesn’t stress me out because I have no skin in the game.” I adopt a goofy, high-pitched British accent. “You’ll never catch me bakin’, luv.”
She cackles loudly and then crawls out from under the light blanket. “I’m so glad,” she says. “Because I really didn’t want to watch anything anyway.”
She tosses back the blankets, and the cool air hits my bare legs. I’m wearing boxer briefs again, and immediately, my cock starts to stiffen.
“What did you want to watch?”
She crawls over my legs and leans toward my ear. “I want to watch you fuck me.”
At that, my dick goes from half-mast to fully awake. “I’m going to like that a hell of a lot more than watching bread proof.”
She shoves my chest back lightly and gapes open her mouth. “You do watch this show.”
We both laugh, and she strips off that cupcake top. Her hair falls loosely over her bronzed shoulders, and her tight nipples are so ripe, so hard, I want to suck them in my mouth like candies.
“Babe,” I groan. “We didn’t buy condoms.”
She rocks back on her heels and then wiggles out of her shorts. She tosses the turquoise fabric to the floor, then jumps from the bed. She walks naked to her purse and slips a hand inside, then turns to me with a sultry grin. A little foil square is pinched between two fingers.
“I may have had a few in my dorm room…” she says, drawing her lower lip between her teeth.
“A few?” I echo, a shit-eating grin spreading across my face. I thank my lucky stars that in the mess of her dorm, she thought of snagging protection. “Let’s not let that go to waste.”
She crosses the floor naked, the light from the TV making her skin glow. I shove the covers aside, and she climbs in beside me and looks at up me. “This isn’t too soon, is it?” Her words are soft. “I can put this thing right back where I…”
I silence the question by claiming her mouth with a kiss. A moan tears through her, rocketing blood to my cock. She sounds hungry, needy, and fuck, I’m feeling every whimper low in my gut. I taste her, kissing her until she’s breathless and rubbing her thighs together.
“Lie on your back.” I can hardly grit the words out. My dick is throbbing, and my lips are raw. I need to slow this down.
She scoots back on the bed, and I circle her wrists with my hands.
She’s still clutching the foil packet, so I leave it there.
For now, she might just want to hold on to it.
I’m not planning on needing it until she is wet and whimpering.
I slide a leg between her knees, and she parts her lips.
Her eyes are wide as she watches me settle carefully between her legs and lower my mouth to her tits.
I’m still gripping her wrists as I trail the tip of my tongue against her tight peak.
I plan on eating, licking, and sucking those tasty nipples until I have my fill.
I circle her nipple with my tongue, working my way around the tip.
She sucks air and squirms, then pants my name.
Fuck, she’s soft, and even the taste of her skin under my lips is like heaven. Better than anything I’ve had and more mind-blowing than anything I could imagine. I don’t care if I’ve known her six hours, six weeks, or six years…I want Annie Hancock.
I want her in a way that feels unsettling. Powerful and new and terrifying all at once. I don’t think I’ll ever want anyone else like this. I give in to the pull and nip her tight nipple between my teeth.
Her flesh ripples as the tiny hairs on her arms stand on end. Her heavy lids are lowered, her lips parted in a sensual pant. I kiss the fullness of her breast, the underside, between her cleavage, across her chest to the other tit, tightening my grip on her wrists.
“Too much?” I grunt, worried I might leave marks.
“No,” she breathes. “More, baby. More.”
I lower my mouth to the other breast and suck as much of it into my mouth as I can take. I work my tongue along her nipple, nibbling until a sheen of sweat breaks out along her hairline and she’s panting hard.
“You like that?” I rasp against her skin. “I want you to come, Annie. I want you to come again and again for me.”
She shudders a sigh. “More. Your beard.”
I lower my chin to her delicate flesh and nod, letting the bristled stubble of my beard scrape her tender breast. I roll my neck so my roughness meets every inch of her most sensitive parts.
Breast, scratch. Nipple, scrape. I tighten and loosen my hold on her wrists as I work her tits, until she wraps her legs around my waist and starts working her hips against me.
“Josh,” she pants, her body flushed and hot. “I might…I might…”
I pivot my hips so my rock-hard cock is pressing against her center.
I’m still wearing my briefs, and the friction seems to be just what she needs.
I lower my chin to her breast and suck. Her hips thrashing against the mattress until she gives a tiny squeal and then trembles with release.
Once she stills, I loosen my grip on her hands and rest my face against her breastbone.
“Keep going?” I ask. “I’m not planning on letting that go to waste.”
She’s loosened her grip on the condom packet, but it’s still clutched in her palm.
“Hell no,” she breathes. “I didn’t dig this out of the ruins of my room for nothing.”
I roll to my side and hold her close to me while she recovers from her orgasm.
We watch the bakers drop cakes and encourage one another until, finally, Annie climbs onto her knees.
She sets the condom packet beside me on the blankets and points to my briefs.
“Sorry,” she says. “I plan to block your view.”