Chapter 10 #2
“I should probably get going.” I glance at Marlin and then Ridge, daring to look him in the eye. “Today, surprisingly, … didn’t suck. So, at the risk of you teasing me later for saying this, thank you. For getting me out of my own head.”
“Didn’t suck, huh?” He grins. “Is that your way of saying you had a good time, Fireball?”
Rolling my eyes, I bite my lip to hold in a laugh. “I mean, I suppose it wasn’t too bad.”
As I stand up, he stands too.
“You know, tomorrow, we go back to hating each other. There’s still about six hours left of our truce. Why don’t you stay for dinner?” He cringes. “I don’t have anything fancy, but I definitely have some boxes of Kraft mac and cheese and probably some tater tots.”
“I may be from the city, but when it comes to food, I’m pretty basic.” I laugh. “I mean, I live off Toaster Strudels, crunchy Cheetos, and Coca-Cola.” I smile. “You had me at the word Kraft. And tater tots?” I nod. “Consider me sold, big guy.”
“That reminds me; don’t forget those when I take you home,” he says. “But if you do, trust me, they’ll be here when you remember them. Toaster Strudels are gross.”
My mouth hangs open. “I am going to pretend you didn’t say that. After all, we’re having a good evening.”
I know I should be going. Nothing good can come out of prolonging hanging out with Ridge, and it’ll only complicate the business side of things even more. But today was fun. And I’m not quite ready for that to end.
Besides, what am I going to do at home? Watch a crime documentary?
“All right then, let’s go cook a terrible dinner to go along with our ugly-ass tree.” He grabs my hand and leads me into the kitchen.
Toying with the asshole side of Ridge Adams when we hate each other is fun and a little sexy. But spending the day with the sweet side of him … that might be even better.
I think, tonight, I’ve laughed harder than I’ve probably ever laughed before.
As much shit as I give Stella, she gives it right back to me.
She covers her mouth and throws her head back, and tears spring into her eyes.
Her auburn hair swings around when she shakes her head and tries to gain composure.
I keep asking myself the same question over and over again. How the hell am I going to go back to hating her tomorrow?
Once our laughter subsides, she steps down from the barstool and takes our plates around to the other side of the island before setting them in the sink.
“You don’t have to clean up,” I say, standing.
“You bought me socks and boots—even though I told you not to,” she says, giving me the same look she did in the store when I paid for them before she could get her card out.
“And then you cooked dinner. Please, let me clean up. Otherwise, I’m going to be insatiable, and I’ll make you call me princess while you bring me food and rub my feet. ”
“I mean, I’m not really a feet guy but—” I tease her, but when I get around to where she’s standing, she slaps my arm lightly.
“Seriously,” she utters, looking up at me but suddenly seeming nervous of my presence. “Before you take me back to my place, let me clean up. Besides, before the clock strikes twelve and I hate your guts again, better take advantage of this offer.”
She may be talking about her offer to clean up dinner, but all I can think about is taking advantage of the fact that she doesn’t hate me right now and how much I’d love to have her in my bed. Then again, I think it would have been fun to bury my cock inside her when she did hate me.
Before I have time to answer, she’s in front of the sink, rinsing the plates before putting them into the dishwasher.
As she moves to wipe down the countertop, I know I shouldn’t get too close, but instead of sitting my ass back down, I walk behind her, grab the bottle of cleaner, and reach around her side to spray some onto the granite countertop, brushing my body slightly against hers when I do.
I’m so close to her that my nose almost grazes her neck when I lean forward.
A slight exhale escapes her lips, and when she bends closer to the counter to wipe it, her ass pokes out, barely grazing my jeans, and my cock twitches in reaction.
I’m not sure if she felt it or not, and even though I know damn well I need to take her back to her place before something happens between us that we can’t take back, I can’t seem to back away.
I have to have her—at least once. If not, I’ll never stop thinking about it.
“Hey, Fireball?” I rasp from behind her, putting one hand on her waist.
She’s practically a stranger, so I’m going to shamelessly shoot my shot here because if she tells me to fuck off, what will in matter once she goes back to the city?
“Yeah?” she breathes out, standing up straighter, but not turning around to face me. She doesn’t need to though because I can feel her tensing in anticipation, telling me that whatever I’m thinking, she’s probably thinking it too.
I don’t know if I’ve lost my mind or if I just can’t resist her any longer, but whatever it is has me reaching around her to grip her chin and force her to look back at me. My heart is racing from my being this close to her, making my breathing grow shallow.
“I know we still can’t stand each other and all.
And tomorrow, we’ll hate each other’s guts once again because you’ll go back to trying to get my land, and I’ll go back to not being able to stand your presence.
” I slide my hand up her body, forcing her to crane her neck to look at me.
“But tonight … maybe we could do something that we won’t do again once we’re back to normal. ”
She drags in a shaky breath, her lips parting subtly—proving how turned on she is and making my dick grow even harder against her ass. And I know she feels it now because she wiggles ever so slightly.
“Something we … definitely won’t do again,” she whispers, swallowing. “Right?”
Sliding my palm against her cheek, I nod. “Yeah. Just this one time.”
She leans closer as she drags in a breath. “I mean … I guess it wouldn’t hurt anything if it was just this once, right? Especially since there’s no risk of us wanting to do it again.”
My cock is steel in my jeans as I press it gently into her ass.
Abruptly, I drop my hands to her waist and spin her to face me.
Her ass sits against the countertop, and I slide one hand into her hair before I bring my mouth to hers.
I could take it slow, but seeing as we only have a few hours left before she’s back to being my enemy, I don’t have time for that shit.
Besides, something tells me she doesn’t want me to go slow.
All I need is one time, and then she’ll be out of my system.
I can stop fucking my hand in the shower, thinking it’s her mouth.
And I can also quit imagining handcuffing her and whipping her ass just before I drive my tongue inside of it for her being so damn mouthy.
Yes, one time, and all that shit will go away, just like it always has with any other chick I’ve fucked.
For days, I’ve wondered what her lips would taste like, and our kiss confirms that, just like I thought, she’s sweet. I guess that makes sense because, inside, she’s not nearly as sour as she’s convinced me she is. But none of that is going to matter tomorrow.
She kisses me back, moaning into my mouth faintly, giving me the green light to go further.
“Fuuuck, my dick is so fucking hard,” I growl against her lips before I lift her onto the counter and spread her legs. When I stand between them, I thrust my cock against her leggings. “Feel that, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she groans out frantically before kissing me again. Her palm slides down my abdomen, rubbing the fabric of my jeans, right over my aching cock. “Fuck … I need this.”
“You need what, Stella?” I utter roughly, trying to fight off the fucking whimper that wants to come from my lips when she continues to rub her hand over the bulge in my jeans.
“Tell me what it is you need so that I can give it to you.” I bury my face against her neck, biting down on her flesh. “Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”
“I need …” rushes from her lips desperately as I pull back and look at her again. “I need you to fuck me.” She says the words so confidently as her hazel eyes bore into mine. “Fuck me like you’ll never get to again. Because you won’t.”
“Right,” I rasp. “Because it’s just this one time.”
“Just this one time,” she whispers. “And you’d better make it worth it, Outlaw.”
Fuck. She’s so fucking bossy. And it only makes my dick that much harder.
Dominant women have never been my type, but I guess for tonight … they are.
I reach for her shirt, tugging it over her head and leaving her in her bra, making me inhale sharply at her beauty. Bringing my hand down her body, I push on her stomach, silently telling her to lie on her back, and slowly, she does.
Hooking my fingers into the waistband of her leggings, I pull them down, and my heart fucking squeezes because she doesn’t have any panties on.
“No panties, sweetheart?” I breathe out. “Fuck … what a naughty girl you are.”
I drop her leggings onto the floor and stare at her sprawled out on my countertop, a glazed look in her eye, and as hot as she is, I need to see her full tits on display.
So, I reach down and unclasp it in the front and push it off her shoulders.
The air hits her tits, and her pretty pink nipples harden, making me grind my teeth and reach forward to cup them both at the same time.
They more than fill my hands up, spilling out and making my mind spin.
“Fuck, these tits are so big and perfect. I can’t wait to stick my dick between them.”
Taking a step back, I tug my own shirt over my head and unbutton my jeans. Pushing them down over my hips, I shove my briefs down to release my aching cock.
“Lift those legs, baby. And spread them wide,” I mutter, palming my dick when she does as she was told. “Jesus Christ,” I hiss. “Such a beautiful fucking pussy.”