Page 61 of Wild Card

My nose wrinkles as he moves to pet my hair.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos.

Okay, so the hair petting isn’t so bad, especially when he runs his thumb over my forehead. It’s actually kinda sweet.

The thermometer beeps, and he tugs it free of my mouth as my core throbs painfully.

Holy hell.

It’s arousal so painful that my entire body jolts. “That’s…oh God, so bad.”

Very eloquent as always, Lennox.

“It’s 107.3. That doesn’t seem great,” Rush says, moving over to the small table near the top of the mattress. He knee-walks back as he tugs his shirt over his head. “Bear isn’t back yet. Do you want me to get Thorne?”

The idea of being sandwiched between the two of them is appealing, but he would have to leave to find Thorne.

The risk seems too high that he might not come back.

My head shakes.

He tosses his shirt aside, licking his lips as he studies me with darkened eyes. “Are you sure you want me?”

“Yes,” I groan, rolling onto my back.

My tits bounce with the movement, and I huff, shoving my hair back from my face. Everything is annoying me right now, and I don’t know why.

Rush stretches out next to me and grips the wrist of the hand that was sneaking down toward my pussy.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He chuckles. “Do you think I’m going to let you be the first one to play with that pretty pussy?”

A violent shiver runs through my entire body, sending goose bumps erupting on my skin as every nerve ending I’ve got lights with interest.

He leans his top half over mine, bringing my hand to rest on my pelvis as I study the well-defined muscles of his chest and shoulders.

Rush has a much slimmer build than Bear, but he’s incredibly strong. I can tell by how little force he has to use to keep my arm pinned in place.

My nipples tighten painfully as his blue eyes rake over my face. A low growl vibrates out of his chest as he lowers his plush lips to mine. His musky bergamot scent hits my nostrils as he licks the seam of my lips.

I whimper into the kiss, aching to tug him on top of me.

I won’t let him escape.

Rush kisses sensually in a way that assures me he knows what he’s doing. An irrational pang of jealousy hits out of nowhere.

I’m clearly losing it because my instincts ache to track down any woman he’s ever kissed like he’s kissing the hell out of me.

Murder is probably not the solution to this problem, but it might be.

My thighs rub together, desperate for friction, as Rush’s chest brushes my nipples, making them throb.

“Please,” I beg. “More…”

“I’ve got you.” He pecks a final kiss on my lips as I try to follow his mouth.

I fall back to the mattress, pouting. I’m not even sure why I’m annoyed.

Rush tosses a leg over my middle until he’s kneeling over me. His forearms hit the bed above my head, and he gives me the sexiest little smirk and wink combo while climbing down.

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