Page 13 of Pucking Forbidden

I need to think, to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do before I do something that we can’t take back. And I can’t do that with her standing in front of me, looking like heaven. All I want is to yank her into my arms and never come up for air again. But is that the best thing for her? It damn sure would be for me.

“Uh-huh. You know, the guy who got eaten by the bears said the same thing about their dispositions,” she says, strolling along at my side. “And then he got eaten by the bears.”

I know what I’d like to eat. It’s five feet eight inches of fiery, relentless heaven.

I cut my eyes in her direction. “You saying I’m a bear, princess?”

“If the growl fits,” she says, shrugging.

I crack a smile despite myself as we reach my truck. “What does that make you then?”

“Funny.” She flashes me a grin. “And relentless. I did warn you that I wasn’t going anywhere.”

She did, didn’t she?

“Why?”

“You mean aside from your winning disposition?”

“Why, princess?” I bite out, that thread fraying.

Her expression sobers, her grin slipping. “I missed you, Jordan. Is that so wrong? I freaking missed you.”

Fuck. Me, this, and everything. How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when she says shit like that and means it? When she looks at me like she regrets the hell out of letting me walk out of her life the first time? Jamison doesn’t have a damn thing to do with what’s between us, and he won’t. This is about us. It’s about what should have been a long fucking time ago.

I pop the locks and toss my bag inside, moving slowly. Giving her time to change her mind and run.

She doesn’t.

“There’s another important story about bears you really should have paid attention to, Sutton,” I murmur, turning toward her.

She stares up at me with wide eyes, the pulse in her throat fluttering. “What story is that?”

“Don’t poke them with sticks,” I growl, pinning her against the side of the truck. My body presses into hers, her curves yielding to me as her hands land against my shoulders. I’m not sure if she intends to pull me closer or push me away, but I don’t wait around to find out.

I slant my mouth down on hers, stealing the gasp from her lips.

Her taste hits my system like a drug. I groan, sinking into her. Fucking devouring her.

Goddamn, that tongue is heaven. Her lips are soft, her breath warm. She whimpers, her tongue fighting with mine for control. I don’t let her have it.

I push her deeper against the truck, nipping her bottom lip in a silent demand for obedience. She thrusts her hands in my hair, pulling in response. Her gorgeous body moves against mine in a way that feels all too right.

“Jesus Christ,” I growl, pinching one hard nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I don’t give a fuck where we are. I don’t care who can see us. I’ve wanted my hands on her body for six years. If she didn’t want them there, she should have run when she had the chance because she was right about me. I have changed.

I’ve had years to grow greedy and selfish. Years to think about every filthy thing I wanted to do to her. And years of jacking my cock with her name on my lips, believing that’s as close as I’d ever get to worshipping her perfect little body.

But she’s here now, opening for me. Whimpering for me. Writhing all over me. It’s my name on her lips, my hair in her hands. And it’s far too late to stop me now.

I tried to do the right thing but tempt not a desperate motherfucker. And this motherfucker has been drowning in desperation for years.

“That mouth is trouble,” I groan, running my free hand down her body. “It might just damn us both.”

“Then let it,” she whispers, writhing against me. “Jesus, Jordan. You’re so hard right now.”

A wild laugh rumbles from my lips. “Been that way for six years because of you, princess.” My fingers slip beneath the waistband of her jeans. “Now, you get to pay for it.”

“Punish me then,” she moans, her eyes wild, her tits heaving in her top. “Just…don’t fucking stop, Jordan. Please.”

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