Page 41 of Snowed In

Jesus, that feels like puppies and rainbows.

He stood there, watching me feel him up with the barest hint of a grin on his face.

Why isn’t he stopping me?

“Even in bed?” I asked, risking life and limb to brush my thumb over one of his fat nipples. I bit my lip as I looked up at him in the small space. “The alcohol doesn’t make your dick go limp?”

He captured my hand in his, and I wondered briefly if he was about to break my fingers. Instead, he dragged my hand slowly down his chest and belly...all the way over the bulge in his sweats.

“What do you think?” he asked, his carefully neutral look obliterated by the glint in his eyes.

That’s my bluff called.

I gulped. “Um...” I squeezed gently and nearly choked on my tongue. Detective Rafferty was packing serious heat. “Damn.”

For all of my antics, it occurred to me that Rafferty was the one calling the shots. Probably had been this entire time.

He held my gaze as he slipped the towel from my waist, and only when the towel lay at my feet did he shift his focus to my cock.

“Seriously?”

His eyes went onyx with desire. “As long as you’re into it.”

“Oh, I’m into it.” I ran my hand through my wet hair, shaking out the limp waves. “It’s a little fucked up, but I don’t mind.”

“Good.”

He sat heavily on the closed toilet, then pulled me between his legs. Leaning forward, he nosed my cock and inhaled deeply.

“You pick up anything in prison?”

“Dude, I was a monk in prison and fucked up anyone who thought they could change that.”

“Goodboy,” he said on a deep rumble that absolutely shouldn’t have turned me on. “Did you wash your ass?”

“You could eat a four-course meal off my ass.”

“Excellent.”

He then took my cock into his hot mouth, and I nearly lost my goddamned balance.

Fuck, fuck,fuck.

Heady with thewhat the absolute fuckof it all, I took another swig of vodka as he sucked on me. Setting the heavy bottle on the tank behind him, I then used both hands to run my fingers through his thick hair. He slurped and moaned while twisting his tongue around my length.

Fuuuuck.

After a few more deep sucks, he pulled off me and rose from the toilet. He manhandled me, turning me to face the window.

“Grab the sill,” he ordered.

God help me, I did.

He pushed his sweats and underwear to the floor with a softwhoosh. I looked back as he stepped out of the clothing. His heavy, wickedly curved cock was ruddy with need.

“Fucking hell, dude.”

“You’ve had a rough evening.” He stroked his dick and sent me an evil look. “I can go back to sucking your dick if you’d prefer.”

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