Page 13 of A Major Puck Up

“To the left,” he directs.

I push open the door and step into his room. With a deep breath in, I allow myself a moment to find my bearings.

The space is simple. A television on one wall, a dresser, a door that likely leads to the master bath. The second door is open, and beyond it is a large walk-in closet.

Then there’s the bed. A king-size bed covered in black bedding. Simple and masculine. The divine scent that envelops me—expensive cologne and man—makes me want to jump onto the bed, sink against the sheets, and just inhale.

Gavin slides his hands up and down my arms as he continues to press soft kisses along my neck. “Is this okay?” he whispers against my skin.

I nod, a little shaky at the sensation and the care with which he treats me, and suck in another breath. He’s everywhere. In this room, against my body. My senses are in overdrive, though my nerves are settling.

“Can I take this off?” He slips one hand down to the hem of my dress.

“Yes. Please.”

He lets out an unsteady breath against my shoulder, the warm air sending goose bumps skittering along my skin, and then he’s lifting the dress.

I raise my arms to help him take it off, and then I’m standing before him in nothing but a pair of panties.

“Fuck. No bra,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up my stomach. When he gets to my chest, he stops and takes his time palming my breasts, then tweaking and rubbing my already too sensitive nipples.

“Don’t like them,” I admit, dropping my head back against his shoulder.

“I want to turn you around so I can see your face, but damn if I don’t love holding your tits like this. Fuck, Peaches, you are perfect.”

Barely. My hips are wide, I’m short, and I’ve got a bit of a tummy that will never go away. My breasts are a good size, though they’re not proportionate to my hips. I wouldn’t consider my shape to be an hourglass, but it’s dark in this room, the only light coming from the city outside the floor-to-ceiling window, and Gavin is hard against my back, so I don’t think he’s disappointed by my body.

I turn in his arms, because I want to see his face too, and he’s on me, kissing my lips, my jaw, my neck, and running his hands up and down my body, moaning about how good I feel, how beautiful I am, and how lucky he is that I’m allowing him to touch me.

Legs shaky, I cling to him. I’m drunk on his words. Drunk on the taste of him. Desire pools low in my belly. The lust-filled haze makes me dizzy and giddy and excited.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I say, working the top button of his shirt. Despite my nerves, my fingers don’t tremble and maintaining eye contact is the most natural sensation.

His smile sends not just heat but warmth coursing through me. “I need to taste you again,” he murmurs. Then he’s cupping me, sliding a finger under my panties and groaning when he finds me wet. “I can’t wait to slide my cock in here. To feel how tight and warm you are.”

I whimper at the images that hit me at his words and slide his shirt off his shoulders.

Taking a single step back, I drink him in. My breath catches in my throat as I catalog every ridge and dip along his chest and abdomen. His skin is tan and smooth, begging me to touch it. Hand splayed, I press it to his pec, then trail lower, lingering on his six-pack, rolling my fingers over each one.

Gavin undoes his belt and then his button and zipper, and then he’s sliding down his pants and revealing his massively hard dick.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper. On instinct, I palm him and work my hand up and down the length, imagining the way he’ll feel inside me.

He’s huge, and suddenly, I’m worried it won’t fit.

My fears are pushed aside when he asks, “Are you on birth control?”

“Yes.” The single word is all I can manage. Thank god too, because my thoughts are nothing but rambling nonsense. Certainly not sexy.

If he’d asked anything else, I may have stumbled through an incoherent sentence or two, but the birth control thing was easy. I’ve been on it for years to help with my horrible cramps.

“Fuck, Peaches, I’m losing my mind. You’re squeezing my fingers so perfectly. I can’t wait to get inside you. Tell me you’ll let me have you. Tell me you’re mine tonight.”

“Yours, Gavin, I’m all yours,” I promise.

I’ve never been anyone else’s. Will he know? Should I tell him? Before I can consider, he sucks my nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue over it, and all my thoughts blur.

“I’m going to make you come one more time on my tongue,” he says, still worshipping my breasts.

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