Page 38 of The Run Home
And that’s when I heard it.
A frustrated, growly scream.
I yanked open the screen door—unlocked—and raced to the back door of the house. I threw open that door—also unlocked. Christ on a cracker, did this woman have no sense of security living alone? I didn’t have time to get mad about it. I was too intent on finding Shae, which I did the second I flung open the door. She was standing in front of the washing machine in the royal-blue one-piece lingerie I’d picked out for her.
She froze.
I froze.
Well, all but one part of me.
“What the fudge sticks?” Shae screamed, her arms coming up to try to hide the prettiest body I’d ever seen in my life.
Her breasts were pressed together and upward by the wireless cups, a veritable flesh pillow on display just for my head, I was sure of it. The lace barely covered her tight waist, but it was the high-cut leg openings that made my mouth run dry. Shit. I was right. Her legs looked long and so smooth they could have been the finest silk.
“Fucking hell,” I muttered, finally moving. I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, but not my eyes. I needed those fuckers to take in every inch of Shae that I’d dreamed about but never saw in real life.
“Get out!” she screamed, now dancing around the laundry room on pretty toes painted bright red.
Maybe I should have said something. Told her how beautiful she was. Or what a douchebag her date was for being late. Or how much I wanted to fuck her right there on the floor. But words were impossible. Blood flow in my body had gone entirely south.
I just stepped into the laundry room, shut the door behind me—and locked it—and backed her into the washing machine with my body. It smelled like lavender and fruit in here, a delightful combination of Shae and fresh laundry. Her eyes went comically wide and that’s when I noticed she wasn’t wearing her glasses. Her hair was down and curled, her makeup applied meticulously. She was a fucking bombshell all tied up in a pretty package.
My dick spoke before I could, pressing into her belly as I laid my hands on the machine behind her, pinning her in. She swallowed hard, but didn’t break my gaze. My girl was so damn courageous, and it was more of a turn-on than I could have expected.
“What…what are you doing?” she said breathlessly, her head tilted back as I pressed harder.
“You…you look fucking gorgeous. I knew it. Your date doesn’t deserve you, Shae.”
She licked her lips while I took in every swipe of her little pink tongue. “He…he cancelled.”
I smiled then. Wolfish and hungry. “He’s a fucking idiot.”
Shae had the audacity to shrug. “Probably for the best.”
I narrowed my eyes. Shae could say a lot of things right to my face and I’d take the verbal lashing. What I wouldn’t take is Shae saying mean things about herself.
“The best for you, definitely. He, however, is an idiot to turn down this.” My gaze moved down to the breasts pressed between us. Goddamn. I could just lean down and suckle her flesh into my mouth. So easily. She was right there.
“Yeah, I don’t know about that…” Shae trailed off.
My gaze snapped back up to hers. I tilted my hips ever so slightly, letting her feel the steel pipe I now smuggled in my pants. I knew she felt it. Her cheeks were already pink, but now her eyes had gone glassy. Her lids slid halfway down like when I’d kissed her neck yesterday. Her hands, that had been stiffly held next to her sides, came up between us, hovering there like she didn’t know where to put them.
Touch me, I begged inside my head.
“Does that feel like a man who doesn’t find you attractive as hell?” I practically growled, just inches from her lips.
“Boon,” she purred back, voice shaky and breathless.
“Yeah, lovebug?”
Her hands finally landed on my hips, and I rejoiced. My hands gripped the washing machine for dear life. If I let go, I was afraid of what I’d do to Shae. How I’d pull her into me, how hard I’d grip her, how I’d do all the dirty things I’d dreamed of doing to her.
Her eyelids lifted, her gaze clear as she stared up at me. “I’m coming to you.”
Her meaning hung between us like the still millisecond before a bomb explodes. I’d told her to come to me when she wanted that one thing. And here she was, finally offering herself to me. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment just to let that feeling of ultimate triumph wash over me. My eyes flew back open in the next second, fully focused. I had a job to do. A job I’d been wanting to do since I knew what sex even was. A job I’d been too afraid to attempt when I was a teenager.
I pushed off the washing machine, my knuckles aching with how hard I’d been gripping the steel. I lifted them, letting my fingers comb through her pretty hair. And then I cupped her jaw, my thumbs sweeping across her cheeks. She was like silk beneath my fingertips. White, unmarked silk I wanted to get dirty.
