Page 25 of Loco

I pushed up from the mattress and wrapped my arms around her, locking Sayla in place as I rolled us over, reversing our positions in one smooth, sudden move. She gasped, surprised,and her fingers clutched at my shoulders, breath hitching as I settled over her, my weight pressing her into the bed.

Then, without giving her—or myself—any time to think, I leaned down, aiming for her mouth.

I missed. Instead of lips, I face-planted into the damn pillow, my chin bumping awkwardly against her collarbone.

“Fuck my luck,” I muttered into the bedding, my voice muffled and annoyed.

Sayla burst out laughing—soft, breathy, and beautiful. Her hands found my face in the dark, fingertips warm and searching. When she located my mouth, she guided me in with a quiet urgency, pulling me down until our lips finally met.

There was nothing tentative about her kiss.

It was needy. Hot. A little wild.

The kind of kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen for far too long.

She kissed me like she was trying to burn the doubt out of us, and I met her with everything I had. My hand fisted in the sheets beside her head as her legs suddenly wrapped around my waist—tight, holding me there, as if she thought I might pull away.

Not a fucking chance in hell.

Bracing myself on one elbow, I let my other hand slip between us. This time, I gripped the hem of her hoodie—both layers this time, determined not to repeat the earlier disappointment—and began sliding them upward. Inch by inch, the fabric gave way beneath my fingers until I felt the soft brush of her skin.

My knuckles skimmed the swell of her breast, and then?—

There. Her nipple dragged against the top of my hand, and I felt her entire body shiver beneath me.

I broke the kiss with effort, panting against her lips as I trailed slow, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down the side of her neck. Her breath came faster, catching when I licked the hollow of her throat, tasting the faint trace of soap and the sharp edge of anticipation on her skin.

But then I hit resistance again. A soft wall of bunched fabric pressed between us like a goddamn insult.

“Fucking storm,” I muttered under my breath.

Sayla chuckled, breathless, but the sound died off in a sharp gasp the moment I found her nipple through the gap in the clothes and closed my mouth around it.

I sucked it into the heat of my mouth, my tongue circling and teasing as my hand slipped up to support her other breast. She arched beneath me, her fingers tangling in my hair, her hips grinding up ever so slightly, searching for friction, for contact, for more.

And I was ready to give her everything.

My hand slid down her side, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of her until my fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her thick leggings. The fabric was warm from her body, but I still cursed it—and the damn storm that had her dressing like we were camping on an ice field.

I expected to find the barrier of underwear next, but instead, I got bare skin. Warm, soft, smooth.

I stilled, breath catching in my throat, my fingertips grazing over the curve of her hipbone. Sayla didn’t flinch. She just parted herlegs a little wider, granting me access with the kind of silent confidence that had blood rushing straight to my cock.

I released her nipple from my mouth with a wet pop and trailed the tip of my tongue down the slope of her stomach, slow and teasing, my other hand joining the first to help peel away her clothes.

Apparently, I wasn’t moving fast enough.

Sayla let out a huff, then beat me to it—hooking her fingers under the waistband and shoving the leggings down, lifting her hips off the bed, and nearly taking me with her in the process. I caught myself on my hands as she wriggled beneath me, determined to get free.

“Fuckingstupidstorm,” she hissed, half to herself, half to me. “I love it for snowing us in together, but these clothes are a nightmare. It shouldn’t take this much effort to get you inside me.”

The raw frustration in her voice made me pause. Wasn’t Isupposed to be the one saying that?

She managed to shove the leggings down to where I was hovering, and then I saw her hand move through the darkness. She gave me a sharp little wave as if I was taking too long. The gesture alone had me biting back a grin.

I did something then I never expected in a moment like this—I chuckled because I could picture her expression shifting from sultry to savage.

“I’m not sure what’s funny,” she growled through clenched teeth, “but I do know that if you don’t help me get these damn thingsoff in the next two seconds, I’m going to put my hand between my legs and finish the job myself.”

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