Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Haz
I’m going to die of embarrassment.
That was if I could do anything other than surrender to the whole-body orgasm Kieran coaxed out of me with those sinful lips and scratchy-but-soft scruff. Seriously, the pleasure just went on and on. And on.
When I thought I couldn’t possibly feel more, his hand wrapped around me.
It didn’t even matter that it was through my clothes.
The heat of his palm, the whisper of breath over the damp skin on my neck, and the way he tugged just right sent another electric zing right through me and had my cock practically gushing all over again.
It was the best, most intense orgasm I’d ever had.
I wasn’t sure what that said about me and my past experiences with sex if my new personal best was me fully clothed, sucking a man’s thumb, and dry-humping him until I literally exploded.
Completely wrung out, I sagged against the wall. “This is so embarrassing.”
He said nothing, not even one of those grunts he seemed so fond of, though the intensity of his attention never went away.
His steadfast attention made my already feverish skin burn brighter, my mortification ratcheting up another ten notches.
Unnerved by his silence, I peeked through narrowed lashes, wondering if I should just run out of here in the borrowed, too-big, and now spunk-filled sweats.
Except for his reddened lips, his face was smooth and gave away nothing.
I huffed at his composure, feeling like I was playing a guessing game.
One thick, dark brow over his relentless blue stare arched. “Care to explain why you’re embarrassed?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I mumbled.
“I’d prefer for you to use your words and make it clear.”
I scoffed. “This from someone who stares instead of speaks.”
I swear the corners of his kisstastic lips twitched, and that barely-there smile sent a storm of butterflies whirling through my middle.
“Because you kissed me and I came in my pants,” I admitted, the fluttery feeling making me brave.
His glittering cobalt eyes dropped between us to stare openly at the wet spot in the center of my pants. “I guess that means you like my beard?”
Astonishment rolled through me like a wave, and I couldn’t help but grin. “Was that a joke?”
“It was an observation.” His voice was cool.
I laughed. “No. That was Mr. Serious actually cracking a joke.”
“Mr. Serious.” He deliberated, obviously unimpressed by my observation.
“Your favorite day of the week is Monday, isn’t it?”
That earned me a slight eye roll and another twitch of his lips. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Monday is totally his favorite.
Briefly, I considered needling him some more, suddenly really wanting to push his buttons just to see his reactions. But it would have to wait because right then I was still suffering from embarrassment.
“I usually last longer than that,” I hurried to say. “It’s probably because I hit my head.”
I wasn’t really sure how a concussion would make a man come faster than usual, but I was going with it.
His eyes flicked to the bandage, his expression becoming stoic once more. “You should get to bed. You need rest.”
Expecting him to put me down, I started to pull my legs from around his waist. He gave one of those indistinct grunts and started down the hall with me still in his arms. The sensation of being carried was new but comforting, and I swayed toward him until my chin rested on his shoulder.
Around me, his arms flexed, and the mere indication of his strength had my lashes fluttering down with a deep exhale.
This is nice.
Nice wasn’t something I was familiar with, and I jolted, body springing away from his with enough force that he had to grip my back to keep me from dropping right onto the floor.
He released a long-suffering sigh, a grouchy prelude to his gruff demand. “Could you at least try to go five minutes without doing yourself some sort of bodily harm?”
“What about you?” I blurted.
“Me?” He scoffed, his pace not even slowing. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“Not that.” I dismissed his rebuttal. “I got off, but you didn’t.” I was a lot of things, but selfish wasn’t one of them.
His body tensed. “I’m fine.”
“Oh. Did you come in your pants too?” I glanced between us, relieved I might not be the only one who’d made a mess of himself, but because my legs were wrapped around his waist, I couldn’t see.
He barked a laugh, the deep sound echoing to the tall ceiling of the bathroom.
It was even bigger than the one I’d showered in earlier and nearly as tall as it was wide!
Seriously, it was so nice that it momentarily distracted me with all the white marble and the glass shower, separate tub, and massive double vanity.
“I have a little more self-control than that,” he informed me, sitting me on the countertop and leaning over to tap the mirror, illuminating the lights built right into the glass.
Humiliation rushed through me all over again, this time with no buffer from the earth-shattering orgasm. Its sting was accompanied by a pinch of hurt, and I turned away so he wouldn’t see.
“What’s that look?” Kieran demanded.
“Nothing,” I muttered. “I should probably go.” I decided and gripped the edge of the counter to jump down. Piercing pain slashed through my cut palm, making me hiss and jerk my hand back. What am I even doing here anyway?
Eyes stinging, I shook out my arm and wiggled forward to leap down.
He blocked the attempt, stepping so close that my knees hit his waist, upper body forming a wall. “Hazard.”
“That’s not my name,” I snapped.
His fingers caught my chin, pulling my face around. Even with me on the raised counter, he was still much taller, and my stomach dipped when he bent so we were eye to eye.
So blue, like the ocean. A good place to drown.
“Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?” It wasn’t a question but more of a command.
I scowled. “If I had a puppy and someone hurt it, I wouldn’t pout. I’d knock out their teeth.”
He pursed his lips. “And how would you do that?”
Annoyance blanketed the million other emotions already whipping through me. “I’m not as helpless as I seem. I grew up in an orphanage. I know how to fight. How to survive.”
I might have been small, but I was scrappy and I fought dirty. In the game of survival, the only rule was to… well, survive.
To my astonishment, he lifted his hands in surrender and took a step back. “All right, then, Hazier. Could you at least tell me why you want to leave?”
I know I didn’t know the guy, but this seemed like odd behavior. He didn’t seem like the type to back down or give in. And him calling me by my full real name? Awful. Ew. Never want to hear that again.
Frustration swelled inside me. He’d given me what I asked for… so why did I hate it?
When I pushed off the counter, my feet smacked into the floor, socks slipping over the tile and pitching me sideways.
Kieran moved quickly but somehow so gracefully and stopped me from tumbling into a heap.
My cheek pressed against his bicep, my whole body cradled against his.
Relief washed over me in the form of his heat and scent and the confident way he lifted me back to my feet.
And then it was over and he stepped away, leaving me to teeter precariously on my own two feet. He didn’t even scold me.
“I don’t belong here,” I said quietly, already shaken up, so the words just tumbled out. “In this fancy house.” I sniffed and gestured in his direction. “With a man like you.”
His head cocked to the side. “And what do you think a man like me is?”
“Bad-tempered, bossy, anal.” I glanced around. “Obviously rich.”
“Is that all?” His tone was dry, and I itched to look at his face to see what expression he wore, but I denied myself. Looking at him led to bad things.
“Handsome,” I mumbled.
“What?”
“Hard of hearing,” I hollered.
He chuckled. Oh, the way that rich, amused rumble erupting out of such a stoic man sent tingles down my spine.
“You’re handsome,” I admitted as if he needed me to tell him. “Kissing me would never be enough to make someone like you come in their pants.”
I’m surprised he kissed me at all.
The absurdity of this entire night crashed over me, weighing down my shoulders and making them ache. What the hell was I thinking getting on a dating app to find a plus-one to spring me from the hospital?
Eyes on the door, I bolted forward, planning to get the hell out of there. I wasn’t even sure where in the city we were, but I could figure that out later.
Once again, he blocked me, barricading the door with his wide shoulders, lean hips, and overwhelming presence.
“I’m not above biting,” I warned.
“Good.”
My head whipped up.
The azure of his eyes deepened to navy, a dangerous glint in their depths. My stomach swooped and my toes curled. His palm was large and weighted when it dropped onto my shoulder, and I began to tremble.
“On your knees,” he ordered, pushing me down.
My knees folded like a house of cards, and I crashed onto the floor with an audible thunk.
The hand pressed against my shoulder drew back, reaching for the silver buckle in the center of a black leather belt.
The massive bulge tenting his black trousers made me gulp, and I gazed up at his face.
The hand not undoing his belt grasped the top of my head and pushed my attention back to where he opened his pants and then pushed them down.
“Is this what you want?” His voice was unforgiving, like gravel. It stung as it scraped across my skin. “You want to see what a hazard like you does to a man like me?”
The first flash of skin made me whimper, and my hands fisted on top of my thighs. I so desperately wanted to grab him, shove my face into his crotch, and inhale.
“Tell me, baby doll.” He continued, reaching into the snug black boxers to pull out his thick, rigid dick with a fat mushroom head. “Why would I give in to the temptation to unload in my pants when I could fill up the back of your throat?”