Page 142 of The Wingman

“You didn’t even stop to admire the present you bought me.”

“Next time.” He undoes my pants, shoving them and my panties down in haste, and I’m distracted by his scent—so fresh, clean, masculine, and familiar.

I squeak in surprise as he lifts me up like I weigh nothing, and instinctively, my legs wrap around his trim hips. I loop my arms around his neck, but his hold on me is firm, hands cupping my ass, and the length of his cock rests against my clit. At the firm press of him against my nerves, I’m overrun with need.

He takes a step so my back is pressed against the cool wall, and my eyes go wide.

“Like this?” I’m breathless, eyes darting around the foyer.

The spontaneity of having sex here in the dim apartment with just the lights of the city sparkling through the big windows makes my stomach dip with excitement.

“Like this.” His mouth tilts in a dark, seductive smile that makes my intimate muscles clench in anticipation. God, this is going to be good. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? That’s what you said that night at the bar, that you wanted to be fucked hard against the wall.”

My thoughts blur in a rush of desire, and I nod. God, yes, I want that. “Yes, please.” My gaze drops, trailing down the carved muscles of his chest, the golden-blond hair leading to his cock.

A rakish grin pulls up on his handsome face. “You don’t have to say please with me, but I really, really like it.”

With one hand, he holds me up, toned arm flexing in a riveting display of masculine strength. Forget the spectacular marble lines of Michelangelo’sDavid. Hayden Owens is the perfect depiction of male beauty. My train of admirationderails, though, as he palms my breast. Our lips meet again, and he toys with my nipple, pulling an aching sweetness from deep inside me like there’s a cord connected to my center. He shifts his hips, sliding his cock through my wetness, and I moan when his scorching hardness rubs against my clit. Molten heat swirls inside me.

“I should slow down,” he says, dropping his hand to between my legs, rubbing his fingers over my arousal and watching my expression with fascination.

I shake my head, tugging on the back of his hair, and his eyes spark hotter. “Don’t.”

He works firm, slick circles on my center, lighting up every nerve ending in my body. My head falls back against the wall and he watches my face with determined reverence. Arousal tightens at the apex of my thighs and I’m flooded with urgency.

“Hayden,” I moan. My heart’s beating so hard, I’m surprised he can’t hear it. “I can’t wait. I need more.”

The breath rushes out of him and he nods, lining himself up with my entrance. He nudges inside, and sharp pleasure sweeps through me, even as my muscles protest how thick he is. I cling to him, letting the sensations drag me under.

“Breathe,” he says, gentle yet commanding.

He’s a bit too big for me, and my lips part as I hold his worried gaze. Even now, he’s so caring and careful with me.

“Oh my god.” He rests his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“You’re so fucking big.” My voice sounds thin and desperate, and I don’t care that it sounds cliché. My whole focus narrows down to where my body’s working hard to adjust to him. Any discomfort is washed away as electricity arcs through my blood. “Keep going.”

He presses in until his hips meet mine and I’m about to losemy mind with the delicious, burning fullness of him. Already, my release stirs, waking up and coiling in my limbs.

“Okay?” he whispers.

I nod against him with a shaky breath. “You feel so good,” I whisper back. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

His throat works. Under my hand on the back of his neck, his skin is hot and damp with exertion. A little frown of frustration and agony sits between his eyebrows. The guy looks wrecked from holding back so he doesn’t hurt me. I nip his bottom lip, and the rough, pleased noise in his throat sends a ripple of warmth through me.

“I can feel you clenching me,” he groans. “I’ve wanted this foryears, Darcy, and somehow it’s better than I thought it could be.”

I wind higher, soaring from the knowledge that Hayden and I connected like this was inevitable. I was always going to figure it out and see him; it was just a matter of when.

While my body adjusts to his intimidating size, he coasts a hand over my skin like he can’t get enough of me, until finally, his gaze meets mine.

“Can I move?” he begs, eyes glazed and breathing ragged.

His hair’s a mess from my hands in it and his eyes are wild with desperation as he hangs on to the last shreds of his control. I nod, and he drags himself out, looking down to where our bodies meet, before he slowly pushes back into me, watching my face for any sign of discomfort.

Pleasure rolls through me; my pulse thickens.

“God,” I moan.

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