41. Easton #2
She lifts her head, and there’s a sexy, mischievous look in her blue-grays. “Won’t take much more if you put your hand between my legs.”
No chance she’s leaving here unsatisfied now. We’re not in our room, but . . . Screw it.
I flip us so she’s stretched out beneath me. I brace my weight on my forearms and stare down at her as she runs her hands across my chest.
A wicked smile curves her lips. “E?”
“Yeah?”
She licks her lips. “Have you ever thought about this before?”
I kiss her cheek. Her temple. Forehead. Then admit, “I’ve tried really hard not to think about it.”
The corner of her mouth lifts. “Such a good guy.”
“Hardly,” I mutter, grinning. “I said I tried.” My hand closes on her hip. “I failed. A lot.” I drag my fingers to the waistband of her leggings.
I lick her lips open and kiss her. “You’re all I’ve thought about.”
“Good. That’s how it should be.” She smiles. “Now be bad for me, will ya?”
Trouble, I swear. I arch my brow. “That’s really what you want?”
“You have no idea how much,” she cries out like she’s in pain and the only way to heal her is if I give her relief.
“I can do that.”
My damn hand trembles as I slip it under her shirt and press it to her warm, soft skin. I shift off to the side of her and prop myself up so I can see what I’m finally about to touch after waiting forever.
I trace the seam of her leggings, and she bucks her hips in response.
“Are you wet for me?”
“Guess you’ll have to find out.” She lifts her ass off the bed again in a plea to touch her beneath her clothes.
I set my hand beneath her black underwear and feather my finger down farther, finding her drenched.
I take my time to touch her. To find the spot she’s the most reactive to.
When she cries out my name, my world spins.
She turns her cheek into the bed, fisting my tee as her face tightens and her mouth parts in a silent cry as I stroke her.
I’ve never been so hard in my life as I look back and forth from where my hand is and up at her face.
When I can feel she’s on the edge of an orgasm, I slant my head and lean in to catch her screams with my tongue.
I hold my mouth over hers as she comes apart beneath me, all heat and trembling and breathless gasps.
She releases my shirt and her hands collapse over her stomach as she closes her eyes. I watch her like this for a minute, peacefully lying there, totally sated.
I pull my hand up as she slowly parts her lids, blissed out and beautiful. She’s staring at me like she could even love me back.
Love me back?
I blink and realize . . .
“These gray sweats of yours, I swear . . .” she says with a laugh, distracting me. “They’ve always done a number on me, and here you are wearing them, and all I can think about is getting them off you.” She grabs my shirt, urging me around to climb on top of her.
I obey and rock into her, my dick more than ready. “Another time,” I breathe out. “I promise. I want nothing more than to be one with you.”
Not just sex. But a connection that goes beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, I’m sure of it. That’s what it will be with her.
The second she presses her mouth to mine, I wind up returning her kiss. I have no idea how long we’re lost to the moment, but of course, we get interrupted.
“Hey,” Mya calls out. “Are you two decent?”
I cough out a rough laugh at that. Define decent.
Even though Gwen was a little loud with her moaning and calling out my name, I don’t think Mya heard us. The walls are supposed to be thick. Or maybe that only goes for between suites not within the same one.
Shit.
“Of course,” Gwen says. “But can you talk through the door?” she adds on.
“Natasha pulled the raw footage of the fake crashes—metadata, compression artifacts, relay servers. We’re going to work in Griffin’s suite. Meet us there when you’re, um, ready.”
Oh yeah, she knows. I roll off her to the other side of the bed and drag a hand down my face.
“Be there soon,” Gwen calls as she sits up and hops off the bed. She turns back to me, tilting her head with a self-satisfied smirk. “You’re still hard.”
I don’t need to look to confirm she’s right. I’m painfully aware. “I won’t be fixing my situation anytime soon if you keep staring at my cock.”
She laughs as I stand and adjust myself. The little troublemaker stops in front of me and goes for my waistband. I expect her to check which brand of boxer-briefs I’m wearing. But no, she’s in the mood to absolutely kill me, and has a peek at the problem in question.
My dick twitches in response to her stare.
“Mmm. The gray sweats are nothing but honest.”
I laugh. “And that means?”
She snaps the waistband back in place. “You’re a big boy.”
“Fucking naughty, seriously.” I cup her chin and lean in, catching her tongue with mine. “Please prepare yourself for a swat to the ass in the future for making me impossibly harder than necessary when I need to be dialing this shit down.”
“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she says huskily, then scrunches her nose. “We have to behave now, though, don’t we?”
I frame her cheeks against my rough palms. “Behave together,” I say. “Be scared together.” I swallow. “What else might we do together?”
“Oh”—her lips twitch, another smile threatening—“I can think of a lot of things.”
Reality hits, and I’m about to be a real killjoy as I remember why I hauled ass here in the first place. “Like falling on the sword together?”
She turns her mouth into my palm and kisses me. Trying to distract me again, huh?
“I won’t let you walk out onto the blade with me,” she whispers.
“Funny,” I huff out, my worries back to being mountain-sized again, “I was about to say the same thing.”