Chapter Seven #2
Her thighs tightened around his hips, and he let out a deep grunt.
“Billy,” she whispered into his ear. “I need you.”
He pulled back, but she didn’t let him go far. His forehead rested against her breastbone, and her nipples ached as his hot breaths stroked over them.
“I can’t keep doing this, Roxie.”
“Don’t you stop again,” she warned. She stroked her hand down his chest towards his jeans. “Don’t you do it.”
Billy knew he should stay away. She knew his triggers better than he did. He’d spent the afternoon taking apart an engine, but he’d analyzed himself even more deeply. He couldn’t keep punishing himself like this.
But he couldn’t walk away from the mind-blowing ecstasy only she could bring.
He lifted his chin to meet her gaze. “When I leave this time, I won’t be back.”
There was the slightest flaring of her big brown eyes and a pull of her lips. Alarm. Surprise. He couldn’t allow it to affect him.
She was his drug, and he was her slave.
But once he left here, he was going cold turkey. He’d cut himself off from the pain and suffering. One day, he’d recover.
Until then, though, he was going to indulge.
“I’m going to take my fill,” he murmured.
“Promises, promises,” she said raggedly. Her hand was sliding between their bodies. His erection jumped, but her hand was diving into his pocket, looking for protection.
His jaw clenched.
“Ask me for it,” he growled.
Her breasts heaved temptingly. “Fuck me,” she breathed.
“No,” he snapped. He was not going to be an easy lay that she needed protection for. “Ask me for what you really want.”
Their gazes locked, his determined. Anger still simmered along his nerve endings. Her stare was stubborn. Hot and exotic, but with that impenetrable wall, guarding all emotions except her arousal.
His eyes narrowed, and he kissed her again. Hot and hard, but slow… and seductive…
She might know his trigger points, but he knew hers, too.
It wasn’t tenderness or flaming hot desire that would get to her. It was a connection. A deep-down, abiding connection with someone. Anyone.
A growl rose from his throat. But especially him.
The hot pink of her bra was suddenly the hot pink of the flowers she’d worn in her hair on their wedding day. He breathed in her lavender scent. Kissing her luxuriously, he trailed his fingers down her stomach. He knew she was wavering when he felt her belly tremble.
Unzipping her jeans, he squeezed his hand inside. It was a close fit. The leather cuff on his wrist snagged against her zipper, and he had to work it free. Once he did, he shoved his hand deeper.
And sighed.
She hadn’t been lying. She wasn’t wearing panties.
His fingers glided over her hot, smooth flesh. Parting her lips, he found her most delicate flesh. She writhed when he rubbed her clit. Back and forth, never hurried, but never settling.
“Ask me,” he demanded again, swirling his fingertip around her opening.
She clutched at his shoulders and her hips rolled.
“Roxie.”
A soft cry left her lips.
“Damn it, Billy,” she moaned. “Make love to me.”
It was all he’d wanted.
The control he’d been clinging to slipped and then was free. Need pounded in his head, and he yanked down her jeans. He crouched before her to deal with her boots, and her fingers wove through his hair.
His breaths were hitting her thighs and bare mound. When he pressed a hot kiss against her, she moaned. She was still quivering when he stood and pushed his own jeans down. His erection was thick and straining.
And that was why it pissed him off when he saw her ripping open the condom she’d found in his pocket.
“You’ve got half a second,” he rasped, his hands already settling on her hips.
He was lifting her even as she positioned the hood over the head of his cock. She barely got it unrolled over him before he started to penetrate. He pushed in hard and ground against her at the end of the stroke.
He froze when she squeezed her inner muscles, milking him as he lodged himself deeply. “Shit,” he swore, sweat breaking out on his brow.
His hold on her faltered, and he slammed his open palm against the door to brace himself. He looked at her quickly and her eyes sparkled.
Not breaking the gaze, she did it again. Slowly, she let one eyebrow lift.
“Minx,” he growled.
Roxie gasped when he spun around, switching positions with her. Suddenly, he was standing with his shoulders pressed against the door and she…
She dropped her head back, arching her neck.
“Oh, God,” she moaned.
She felt like she was suspended midair. Free falling.
And she loved it.
She loved it even more when he began thrusting into her, bracing his back against the door.
With all her weight riding on him, the pumps were hard and driving.
Holding tight, she clutched his shoulder with one hand and stroked her other hand down his chest. His heart pounded under her touch and his muscles trembled from the effort it was taking to hold her weight.
Or maybe, just maybe, she was having as much of an effect on him as he was on her.
Roxie arched sensually. He felt huge as he moved inside her. Her thighs burned as she lifted herself, working in time with him.
Today had built up to this. All the anger, frustration, and nerves broke down to their most basic elements, joining forces with her arousal. It sharpened her senses and focused her need.
On him. Only him.
The outside world was shut away as they loved each other.
Aromas from the kitchen tried to slip under the door, and snippets of discussions slithered through the air vents.
All she smelled was the familiar scent of his skin.
All she heard was the panting of their breaths and the soft cries neither of them could hold back.
He was pounding into her fast now, his jeans sagging around his muscled thighs.
She clutched at his biceps as she felt the orgasm swelling inside her. The skin under his tattoo turned white as her grip bit tight.
But then his hips swung in a high arc, slamming home and the orgasm broke free. Her head fell back, and she arched over his arm as she came. Her thighs locked tight around him, and her toes curled.
“Roxie,” he called loudly, before cutting off the sound. His arms tightened around her like a vice, and his body went rigid as he came.
Roxie sagged forward to stop the blood from rushing to her head.
When she did, she caught Billy looking so utterly sexual, an aftershock ran through her.
His muscles shown in stark relief as the orgasm held him in its grip.
His teeth were clenched, and his eyes were closed.
His hair was still mussed, and it made him look young and hungry as he braced himself against the door.
It was a wonder the thing had held.
For a moment, Roxie cuddled against him, watching the pleasure on his face. It was sexy and powerful. Male.
And beautiful.
It made her stay for a moment longer than she should. Two, maybe…
But then she was carefully lifting herself. He was still coming down from the high. She didn’t want to disturb him, and she didn’t want to fight. More than anything, she wanted to curl up in his arms… maybe tumble down into the chair together, but that wasn’t the way things worked for them.
She gently disconnected their bodies and reached for the floor with her toes. Her breath caught when he took her weight and lowered her down. His strength made her weak.
She let out a shaky breath, not sure what to say.
He didn’t say anything either, just leaned back against the door and watched her.
His gaze was unfiltered, and she suddenly found she couldn’t meet it.
Instead, she swept her tank off the floor.
She pulled it over her head but was surprised to find the straps of her bra still looped over her shoulders.
Feeling clumsy, she quickly did up the closure, but the bra wasn’t on quite right.
The underwire dug into tender flesh, but she pulled the tank down quickly.
She was willing to deal with the discomfort.
Silently, they both got dressed.
Inside her chest, Roxie’s heart was pounding like it wanted to get out. What was happening between them? All sorts of emotions and reactions were being stirred up during this visit of his.
She didn’t like it. Nerve endings long covered with scar tissue were being grated upon.
The silence was just becoming overwhelming when a heavy knock came at her office door.
The same door against which she and Billy had just screwed each other’s brains out…
Billy sprang away like a funny car coming off the starting line, and she fumbled with her zipper.
“Roxie?”
Billy shot her a quick look, and she rolled her eyes. Skeeter.
“Come in,” she called.
The bouncer opened the door. “Ah, hell,” he said when he surmised what had happened. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” she said, stuffing her foot into the old boot she was quickly coming to hate.
“I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
Billy scowled darkly.
Skeeter held up his hands. “After the cops and Mr. GQ.”
“There were cops here, too?” Billy said.
Roxie stomped on the ground and the boot popped into place. “The billboard,” she explained succinctly.
“Are they going to give you problems?”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Puh-lease.”
He just shook his head. “Should’ve known I wasn’t the only one you’ve got wrapped around your pinkie.”
Leaning over the chair, he picked up his jacket.
If her gaze was distracted by the way he filled out his jeans when he moved like that, it couldn’t be helped.
Shrugging into the leather, Billy nodded at Skeeter as he passed through the doorway.
“Thanks for working on my truck, man.”
“No, thank you,” Billy muttered.
It was the last thing Roxie heard him say before he left. Without another word or glance towards her.
Wrapped around her pinkie? She didn’t think so.
For once, she didn’t know what was winding him up.
* * * * *
“I’m sorry,” Skeeter said again as Roxie tried to tame her hair.