Page 56 of Tackle

Emerson brought a hand to her head. She actuallywasstarting to get a headache. “Maybe you should leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere until we settle this.”

She waved a hand through the air. “There’s nothing to settle. I thought you wanted this—us, but now I’m not so sure. My God, you’ve seen more of some random woman’s boobs than you have mine!”

That’s when Oz moved. He came at her. Stopping just shy of plowing her over, his hands gripped her upper arms, bringing her up to her toes as he glared down at her.

Her heart raced. If she thought Oz angry before, that had nothing on now. She didn’t think he was capable of violence but she did have a moment’s trepidation as he stared down on her with blazing eyes.

“How can you think I don’t want you. I love you.” His lips crashed down on hers.

Emerson wasn’t given a chance to process Oz’s declaration before feeling took over. Oz wasn’t fooling around. His kiss had an intent and its meaning was crystal clear.

MINE.

She and Oz had shared many kisses—all of them amazing—but none had come close to the fervency he displayed now. It wasn’t so much a kiss, but a manifestation of all his pent-up frustration, passion, and craving.

And she knew this because she felt the exact same way.

Mouths fused, their tongues went to war. His hands lost their grip on her arms only to find the sides of her face, his fingers digging into her scalp. Her hands reached for something to hold on to, desperate to keep balance from the assault of sensation that flooded her. She found his hips, her thumbs hooking through the belt loops and her fingertips clawing at the denim of his jeans.

He ripped his mouth away from hers, but before she could protest, it latched on to her neck, his teeth and whiskers scraping against the delicate skin as it traveled down her chest until it reached the barrier of the scooped neckline of her tee.

He solved the problem, his hands finding the hem of her shirt and ripping it over her head. His mouth went straight for the swell of her breast that overflowed the cup of her bra, tightening her nipples upon contact.

Her body was on fire. It felt as though her blood had turned to lava, scorching a path through her veins.

His hands seemed to be everywhere. Cupping her breasts. Skimming her sides. In her hair.

Her hands wanted to explore. She slid them under the hem of his t-shirt to run over the warm, smooth skin of his back.

Grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck, he yanked it over his head, giving her roaming fingers better access. They traveled over his lats and around to his pecs, then slid down to coast over his abdomen. He had muscles everywhere. There wasn’t a soft spot on him.

He shoved the cups of her bra down, exposing her breasts. Filling his hands, he feasted on them, and she arched into his greedy mouth. He sucked on her nipples in turn, flicking them with his tongue and nipping with his teeth until the ache in her sex grew to a point, she needed relief. She moaned, rubbing herself against him, trying to get closer, but it wasn’t close enough.

Throbbing for him, she ripped at the button-fly on his jeans. God, he was huge, the girth of him almost too much for the width of her hand.

At her touch, his groan reverberated against her chest, and his hands flew to the front of her jeans, unfastening them, and yanking them over her hips. She toed off her sneakers as he dragged them down her legs.

His hand dived into the front of her panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

She didn’t respond. Couldn’t. At the touch of his fingers hitting her clit, she nearly exploded. She did go weak at the knees. Oz easily lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

They were in her bedroom before she could blink. Oz tossed her on the bed and she got up on an elbow to watch as he kicked off his jeans.

God, he was big everywhere. Even his thigh muscles bulged. He pulled a condom from his wallet, sticking it between his teeth before tossing his wallet on the nightstand.

He was on her in a blink, spreading her legs wide, and sinking himself to the hilt.

She felt the stretch and her fingers scraped down his back, her head flying back.

He stilled. “You okay?”

“God, yes,” was all she could manage to sputter, but it was enough.

Oz started moving.

Chapter Nineteen

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