Page 118 of Secondhand Smoke
Barrett chuckled and nodded. “Do whatever you want. Consider this your place for now.”
She smiled, her cheeks pinkening slightly. “I love you.”
Barrett grinned, his heart pounding. He would never get used to that.
Leaning in, he captured her lips more aggressively than he meant to.
Her arms wrapped around his neck in response, pulling him into her. She kissed him desperately, emotionally. He let her take the lead. She probably needed this distraction.
One of his arms balanced them while his other fingers poked out, searching for the bottom hem of her shirt. They tapped against the fabric, moving downwards, until they hit skin.
Barrett’s eyes popped open, and he pulled back to look.
He hadn’t noticed it before because she’d mostly been covered by the blanket, but when he pulled it away, he saw the whole picture.
His jeans strained more by the second, his mouth dry.
“Is that my shirt? And no pants?”
Nell’s cheeks were red with embarrassment and something else. She ran a self-conscious hand over the front of the AC/DC logo. “It’s comfortable.”
“Fuck yes, it is.” Barrett pulled the blanket completely off her legs until she was fully uncovered. His shirt was long enough it could hide anything to her mid-thigh, but at some point, it had ridden up, revealing pastel blue panties just barely peeking out from below the black fabric.
Barrett groaned and leaned back, running a hand over his face. “I told myself I was gonna behave.”
“Please don’t,” she whispered. Her hand that had been resting on his shoulder moved down, paying special attention to the tattoos on his bare chest.
He was a goner. “Well shit.”
This time, when he kissed her, he laid her backwards into his mattress. He crawled up, without breaking the movement of their mouths, until he was straddling her with his arms holding him over her.
He held himself back as best he could. But her hands wouldn’t stop moving. It was like she was constantly looking for something to grab—his hair, his neck, his arms, his chest, his side, his zipper.
He exhaled against her mouth and took the hint, assisting her in unzipping his pants and gently guiding her hand into his jeans.
Despite that sweet, nervous look on her face, she didn’t act the same way with her hand. She knew exactly what kind of control it had over him.
She palmed him steadily through his boxers with the kind of pressure that made him jerk his hips into her hold and beg for more.
A deep groan stole from his throat and delivered itself into her mouth as her fingers brushed over the covered tip. “God, Nell.”
That seemed to only spur her on, and her hand picked up its pace.
Half sane, he was desperate to return the favor.
He gave his left arm the sole responsibility of holding him up, and his right hand hastily lifted the shirt the rest of the way up, uncovering Nell’s entire lower half. He slid his fingers between her legs, brushing the blue and finding a damp spot that made her chest curl up into his.
It was the first time her hand faltered, her pacing growing erratic.
Her mouth finally fell away from him, her head falling backward to let out a wide-open gasp with her eyes closed. Barrett, on the other hand, couldn’t look away.
His two fingers pushed the blue to the side and let him make direct contact with the warmth it had been hiding. They slid easily into her, and with Nell’s hand growing frantic against his crotch, he was becoming dangerously close to giving in.
“Please, please, please,” Nell whispered between breathy pants. “Please, Scott, please.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” Barrett murmured into her neck, kissing at the skin. “Everything about you. I can’t believe I get you. I can’t believe you love me. That I’m the one who gets to stick my fingers in you and make you moan like that.”
Nell didn’t respond, too busy grinding her hips onto his hand at the same pace he fucked into hers.
