Page 42 of Claiming Atlas
I take a breath, then slide my hands beneath the hem of his t-shirt. He reaches behind him quickly and grabs the collar of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head in one quick motion. I look down and slide my hands over his chest, watching the way his skin dances beneath my fingertips. He’s all hard planes and olive skin, and as I run my fingertips over the faded black lines of his tattoos, I shake my head.
Am I seriously here right now, in this amazing suite, with Atlas Reynolds?
He’s a musical genius with a bass, creating melodies that seep right through my skin, winding their way around my heart with each strum of his fingers on the strings. Sure, Chris has a voice that drops panties, and Cade plays the drums like he’s never fully been able to hit them hard enough, and...
God, why am I thinking about the other members at a time like this?
I look up into his eyes. Somehow, all his broken pieces come together to create this beautiful man who stands before me now.
Saying no to him, twice, was so totally worth it. I giggle at the thought.
“What’s so funny?”
I giggle again. “I can’t believe I tried to say no to you.”
His lips twitch. “You and me both.”
Reaching behind him, I bring us closer together, tracing the curved tops of his ass with my fingers, then trailing my fingertips along the waist of his jeans until they’re back at the front where I can work at unbuttoning his fly and getting this beautiful man naked.
He steps out of his jeans, and I take a step back to admire him. Holy hell, he’s built like a God. I smile, then drop my gaze to his black boxer briefs, and the erection that presses against the cotton. I look up at him once more and step backwards until the back of my thighs hit the bed. Slowly, I spin around, then bend over to pull down the bedding.
He sucks in an audible breath, then his hands are on my hips, and he presses himself against my bottom. “Fuck, Kayla, I can’t wait for the bathtub.” He slides his hands up and teases my breasts, then rubs his hands back down over my cheeks. His teeth graze my ass, then he slides my panties aside and runs his fingers over my wetness. “You’re so fucking soaked for me,” he practically moans. “I can’t wait.”
Me neither.
I look over at the door. It’s locked, but Red is just on the other side of it, playing pool in the living room. I glance over my shoulder at Atlas, whose eyes are so focused on my ass, that a spaceship could land in this room and he might not even notice.
I give my ass a quick shake and his eyes flutter.
“Fuck me,” he murmurs.
“I plan to.” I wait for him to finally look up at me. “But won’t your security guard hear us?”
He smiles wickedly. “Only if I’m good at my job.”
Chapter Eighteen
