Page 11 of Tangled Desires

She’s mine right now, no question about it. “That’s it, sugar,” I growl, grinding harder against her. “Soak my jeans. Show me that pretty face when you come.”

We’re a mess of limbs and teeth, tongues tangling, grinding like we’re anywhere but a public car park. Not that I’d give a shit if someone caught us. “Fuck yeah,” I murmur. “Grind harder. Imagine it’s my cock you’re riding.”

“You fucking wish,” she snaps, but her hips press harder against me.

“I do. Every second.”

Her eyes squeeze shut, her thighs trembling against mine. It’s fucking primal—the way her body arches into mine, her rhythm desperate, frantic, like she’s chasing that edge with everything she has. And when she finally snaps, her cry tears through the air, her whole body shaking, as her arousal coats my thigh.

“Fucking hell, Imogen,” I breathe. Her nails rake down my chest, leaving trails of fire that send my brain spinning. She looks wrecked—flushed, trembling, hair wild—and I swear I’ve never seen anything hotter. Before I can pull her back for more, she pushes herself off me, smoothing out her dress, and combing through her hair like she’s trying to erase the chaos we just created.

My gaze drops to the wet patch on my jeans, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “Look at the mess youmade.” She shrugs, wiping at her mouth. I nod toward the very obvious, very painful bulge straining in my jeans. “Care to return the favour, sugar?”

Imogen’s laugh cuts through the air. She turns around, her hips swaying just enough to make my pulse trip. “Thanks for the orgasm, but no thanks,” she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder. I watch her go, my jeans damp, cock aching. “But good luck with that, big boy,” she calls without a glance back.

My hands flex at my sides, sparks racing through my brain like a live wire. The sting of her nails lingers, the imprint of her body burned into my skin, and now she’s gone, leaving me hanging—literally.

This? Oh, this isn’t done. Not even close.

4

I’m sprawled on Isla’s couch, sinking into the pillows like they’ve been made just for me. Isla flips through the pizza menu one-handed, while she breastfeeds Callie.

“Okay, how about pepperoni for Xav and I. Midge, what do you want?” Isla asks.

“Pepperoniwithextra cheese, babe, yeah? Can’t ever have enough cheese,” Xavier cuts in, pressing a kiss to Isla’s head and running a hand over Callie’s back. They’ve truly found something beautiful together, and it warms my heart.

“Sure thing,” Isla hums.

“Supreme, with extra pineapple,” I declare, knowing full well it’s a controversial choice, but relishing in the playful banter that’s sure to follow.

“Pineapple? What is wrong with you?” Xavier groans, like I’ve just suggested dog food.

“Your loss.”

“Doubt it.” He plops down beside Isla as she starts ordering, but Xavier holds up a hand.

“Hang on,” he says, checking his phone.

“What now?” Isla frowns.

“We’ve got company.”

“Company?” My eyes narrow. “Bradley and Amelia?”

Xavier’s smirk turns sly. “Those two? They’re off in lovebird land. You’d need a crowbar to pry them apart.”

A sinking suspicion hits me. “If you say Harrison, I swear I’ll kill you.” Isla giggles while Xavier’s smirk widens.

“Oh, well, that’s great,” I mutter. “Can’t I just enjoy my friends’ company without him barging in?”

“Sorry, Midge. Couldn’t turn him down. He was too persistent,” Xavier retorts.

“Weak,” I deadpan. “Did you tell him I was here? Is that why he’s sniffing around?”

“Not a chance,” he says, laughing. “But his face lights up when he sees you. Can’t deprive him of that.”

“Oh, fuck off.” My eyes roll so hard they might get stuck. Isla giggles again, fully enjoying my suffering.

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