Page 7 of King of Rhythm
His lips are even softer than I imagined as I rub mine over his, breathing in his scent and feeling the heat of him as his body presses mine against the truck. My hands go to his shoulders, the muscles tight beneath my fingers. When his tongue slides across the seam of my lips, I open to him.
Over dinner, him being shorter than me became less of an issue as I fell into the pleasure of just being with him. He’s sweet, and the way he looks at me makes me feel like I’m special. Like I’m beautiful. I’ve never felt beautiful in my life and coming from this stunningly gorgeous man it makes it all the more intense.
How he kisses me is beyond intense. His right hand tunnels into my hair, while his left one curls around my hip, his long fingers possessively spread and sending a flare of heat straight through me.
I’m not very experienced when it comes to kissing. Most of my limited hookups were with the guys far more eager to get to the main event than some of the niceties leading up to it. Bryce doesn’t seem to mind my lack of expertise. Not if the hard press of his erection against the apex of my thighs is anything to go on.
With a soft moan, I grind my pussy into the solid bar of his dick. The throbbing of my clit making me reckless, and I slide my hands from his shoulders up into the coarse waves of his hair. I drag my short nails over his scalp as I press even closer to him, my tongue swirling with his and following his lead.
Each rapid rise of my chest rubs my stiff nipples against the satiny material of my bra, and I ache.
As if sensing my need, Bryce palms my breast, his heat searing me.
We’re all but humping right out in the parking lot and I don’t care. I’m so lost in the sensations and the building desire raging unchecked through me that nothing short of an earthquake could bother me right now.
A desperate whine leaves me when Bryce’s lips pull away and his fingers wrap gently around my upper arms and, slowly and carefully, he puts some space between us. We stand and stare at each other. His dark eyes burning with a fervor that echoes mine and I want nothing more than to ravish his mouth again and writhe my body against the solid strength of his.
“I want you, angel,” Bryce breathes. “Damn do I want you.”
My heart leaps at his words. I want him too. It’s too soon, and I never fuck on the first date, but I’m willing to break this rule for him. I feel like a naughty teenager as my mind goes to my pickup truck and the fully reclining front seats.
“But it’s not a good idea,” he continues.
All thoughts of a wild tumble screech to a stop. My mouth is dry and I’m glad the solid, steady presence of the truck is at my back, helping to hold me up.
I grope for the door handle, forgetting that I never unlocked the truck, and tug uselessly at it, while I try to control the hurt racing through me. I should be thankful he’s not just using me.
Except maybe I wanted to be used. Maybe I wanted to use him and just feel desirable for once. I don’t understand how hecan kiss me like that, call me angel, and then say us sleeping together isn’t a good thing.
Talk about mixed signals! And I thought women were supposed to be the ones pulling shit like this.
Bryce’s hand covers mine and gently but firmly he pulls my hand off the handle. “I think I’m giving you the wrong idea.”
You could say that again!
Stubbornly, I keep my mouth shut. Mostly out of fear that I’ll cry in front of him. I still have some pride left.
He gives my hand a squeeze. “I don’t want us to do anything you’ll regret.”
I yank my hand out of his grip and lean down to pick up my purse that somehow slipped off my shoulder while we were kissing. “I think I’m old enough to decide that for myself,” I snap, glaring down at him when I rise to my feet. For once, I like being taller and now I’m wishing I had worn some killer heels to really drive the point home.
“I never said you weren’t,” he says in a strained voice.
Snorting out a huff of breath, I roll my eyes.
“Fuck!” he snarls, running his hands through his hair and whirling away from me. He takes a few steps and I watch him go, wondering how such a nice evening suddenly went so wrong, when he abruptly turns and stalks back to me.
Grasping my hand, he shoves it against his crotch.
Automatically, my fingers close around the turgent length of him. He's not a tall man, but his cock is long and impossibly hot. I can feel the throb of him through his dress pants and, just like that, my pussy is ready to go.
“Feel what you do to me?” he growls. “This cock is all for you, Avery. I want to wrap your legs around me and slide every inch of it into your tight, hot pussy. I want you to ride my face and drown me in your cream. I’ll lick up every delicious drop you give me.”
My chest is tight, and my fingers are locked around his dick as his suggestive words wash over me. Wetness trickles out of me, and I press my thighs together, biting back a needy moan.
“I want you in my bed. But more than that, I want you in my life. And if I fuck you like I want to, I’m afraid it’s going to give you the wrong idea. We need to get to know each other better first. I never want you to mistake how precious you are to me.”
What he’s saying makes sense and is oddly sweet. Okay, more than sweet, it’s downright amazing.
