She flops over, raises her free foot and kicks in my direction.
“I hate you!”
I catch the other ankle on her second kick and pull her body across the bed until my hips are snug between her thighs. “No, you don’t.”
She growls and arches her arm back, her fist flying forward to connect with my ribs. “Yes, I do.”
Another fist lands on my torso, except this time, her face is more than just flushed from exertion. I tilt her chin up until her eyes meet mine and I see the heat that she’s fighting in her piercing green irises.
The anger swirling in them.
The arousal.
“Stop fighting it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Anna
Clearly, I need someone with a doctorate in psychology to examine my behavior. Not just Toby’s. Take a look at the marbles I think I have and tell me that I’ve lost them.
It’s the only thing I can think of when Toby arches my neck back and stares at me like …
I don’t even know what.
Like he wants to eat me alive, but also consider strapping me to the bed to feast on for days.
Instead of continuing to fight him off like I should … I am unbelievably turned on. More than I have been in my entire life. My arms fall helplessly at my sides as his dilated eyes dart between mine. I almost feel …
Deserving of the fight he put up to get me in here.
Not overweight or fat, like my sister called me when she had her drug-induced episodes, but …
Attractive.
Worthy.
Sexy.
“Mama,” he says, his voice all gravel as his finger and thumb dig—not unkindly—into the soft spots of my cheeks and draws my gaze lower. Over his bare and tattooed chest, down the trail of hair in the center of his sternum that leads into the protruding waistband of his shorts. “The only wrecking ball here”—Toby cups the larger bulge in his shorts—“are these.”
His words are vulgar, dirty, yet the urge that fills me feels criminal.
The desire to peel back his packaging and take him into my mouth feels … overstimulating.
Overwhelming.
But then the man calls me Mama and my stomach clenches.
Who am I right now?
“I see you.” The hand around my mouth tugs me closer. So close I can practically taste the saltiness of his skin. “Stop fighting it and take it.” He groans when my lungs heave, and a whimper escapes me. “Fucking take it, Anna.”
Have mercy on me …
Chapter Twenty-Two
Toby