Page 48 of Root

“Rush?”

“Yeah?”

I’m overcome by the urge to say I didn’t mean the we comment and everything it held. Shit, why I care if it hurt him is beyond me. I’ve got bigger problems.

There are words in my head, but I don’t know how to give them air, and I don’t trust myself.

So, I do the next best thing. I put my hand with the harness on his chest and push him hard, into the wall.

Our eyes meet and heat and flame swirl through me.

I’m not sure I can breathe.

Do I even need to?

“Sometimes,” I whisper, “I’m a bitch. Sorry.”

“Noted.”

I go up on my toes and kiss him and he opens for me as I slide my tongue into his hot, wet depths. Oh, Christ does he taste good. Heat and dark trysts, that slight filthiness of him that fans all the flames and makes lust surge.

It’s a slow kiss for one that’s deep and there’s something on the edge of it that riles.

“Kiss me back, asshole,” I mutter. I bite his bottom lip hard as I grab his wrist with the hand full of leash. “Now.”

“Oh,” he says, “you want me to kiss you back?”

“I just said that.”

“You’re insanely bossy.”

“I know what I want.”

His gaze rakes over my features. “No, you don’t. You’re all over the place, have been since the bar, giving me those spiked fuck me looks along with the I’ll get my machete and chop of your dick vibe.”

“I don’t have a machete.”

“Good.”

“Yet.”

He laughs softly, comes in close to my ear. “Good to know. Why are you so prickly, Jessie?”

“Jess, and I’m not.”

I try to capture his mouth again but he deftly avoids mine. We’re pressed against the wall, me pushing into him and I know he’s hard, I can feel him. I’m throbbing, almost wild with need and he…I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

“You are. Lucky for you, I’m thinking of getting into cactus-collecting. The ones that bloom rarely but are so fucking beautiful when they do…”

His lips move slowly along my throat and parts of me melt out of this existence and into another realm over and over.

My tongue’s too big for my mouth. “Are you comparing me to a cactus?”

“If the prick fits…”

Something inside wobbles at that.

“I’m the prick that fits.” Before I can say a word or breathe or make my way back to reality, he spins me and I’m the one pinned against the wall, he continues the slow exploration of my throat and even though he’s kissed me there before, this is a revelation.

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