Page 96 of Root

Or, maybe, I can just somehow get my brother and leave. Lie my way through it all. To Rush, to the Ten64s.

“Who was that?” he asks, softly.

I spin, blinking rapidly. “Guess Bunny Munroe can’t do without me.”

“They want you back?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

He pulls on the ends of the tie and my gaze locks on to the expanse of smooth, muscled chest and I want to drool.

I need to give them something, and him standing there like an ad for hot sex gives me an idea. “Since you’re dressed up—”

“I’m taking my clothes off. Thought I’d give you a look.” He comes up to me as I speak.

“—maybe we can go out.”

“Or stay in? Have some sexy times?”

“Do you get away with things like that because you’re cute?”

“Probably.” He slides an arm around me, and kisses me softly so I melt. “I don’t say shit like that to anyone else. It rattles you, so…” He grins. “I’m a bad man, baby bunny.”

“Awful.”

“What do you think? You, me, my tie?” He walks me backward, kissing me as he goes, and I’m utterly helpless.

I’ve fought off men twice his size. He…he unarms me, makes me putty. Rush could overpower me in second because I’m boneless, muscles soft when he ignites the fires inside me.

And I hate it.

Almost as much as I crave it.

His kisses are soft, slow. Hard, deep. They’re like sex and seduction and addiction.

When I manage to push him away, I slam against the island and he grins, coming at me with the tie.

But as I go to try and stop him, he does his Rush flipping of whatever his script is.

He picks me up and drops me on the island, and I’m shocked as my ass hits cold marble.

“How…”

Rush pulls off my shoes, tossing them and then the jeans and underwear he somehow managed to get down.

He’s the Houdini of pants. I fucking swear.

“It’s a gift,” he says as he steps between my thighs, unzips and pulls that hot prick of his from his pants.

My pussy throbs. My mouth waters. He’s thick, hard, and the drops of precum at the head of that gorgeous cock are something I want to lick up.

He felt so good in my throat, my mouth. I want him there again. I want him to pound my face again, fuck my throat so hard I cry and come from that alone.

But Rush pushes his fingers between my thighs and strokes my pussy, sending showers of delight and need through me. I’m wet, his digits glide, sliding in between my lips, and he takes my mouth in a slow, thorough conquering.

As he does, so he moves his fingers, his cock taking over, splitting me open and pushing into me.

He’s so big that the stretch is real and I grab his shoulders, tilting up to him. I want it hard. Fast. Violent. I want him to bruise me in all the low-down erotic ways. I want him to slam so deep I end up on the other side of the island.

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