Page 21 of Texas Hold Em'
I held my tongue.
Tex dropped his boxers. His cock sprang free and he stepped even closer. I felt him resting against my stomach—felt the heat and the size of him. I swallowed hard and he watched my throat with hungry eyes. When he reached up to brush my hair away from my face and rest his hand on the base of my neck, I held my breath.
For a man who had done terrible things, he sure could be gentle.
He handed me the condom with his other hand. With trembling fingers, I unwrapped it.
He smiled as he watched me desperately trying to get the condom out of the wrapper but didn’t offer to help. Finally, I achieved my task, reached down, and took him in one hand. He didn’t flinch, but his breathing hitched.
Maybe I had more power than he wanted me to believe.
Slowly, I rolled the condom on his shaft. The hunger in his eyes burned brighter, and as soon as I had it on him, he reached down, gripped my hip, and forced my leg up. He arched his hips forward and pressed against me. The metal door bit into my shoulder blades but I barely felt the pain as he gave me an inch, followed by more, and more, and more, until I felt like I was going to burst.
I pushed at his chest, not knowing if I needed more or less.
He stopped with a furrowed brow. “Did I hurt you?”
I gazed up into a face that I still didn’t understand, but desperately wanted to. “Not any more than you did when you dropped your bike.”
His handsome features stretched in a grin. “You’re a wicked woman.”
Nobody had ever said such a thing about me before, and it made me smile.
I draped an arm behind his neck and sank my fingers into his hair. “Just fuck me.”
CHAPTER 9
JAMESON
Carrie’s body felt like it was made for me.
The curve of her hip against my hand set my nerves on fire. The way she clung to me, pulled me down to her for kisses, and clawed desperately at my back as I thrust inside her—it all felt so primal and visceral. I couldn’t recall a moment where I felt so present or grounded. This woman, the taste of hot sauce on her tongue from the wings, the smell of dirt in her hair from the crash, was so much more real to me than my own heartbeat in my chest.
I pressed deep inside her.
She pressed her head back against the door and closed her eyes as she moaned with pleasure. I kissed her neck, her chest, her shoulders. She rolled her hips and arched her back, trusting me to hold her in place, and I did, pushing deeper into her until she could take all of me.
Maybe she was a bad girl, after all.
I cupped the back of her neck and drove deep inside her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gripped my wrist. Her lips formed a silent O and she stretched to the tip of her toes as I fucked her harder and harder until her thighs trembled and she let out a cry of pleasure. Her knees buckled, but I held her up as she came. She held my shoulders as I rocked inside her, working up to my own climax. Her pussyclenched and released around my cock with every thrust. She was so swollen, plump, and soft. I could hardly stand it.
Carrie took a fistful of my hair in her hand and pulled me down to her. “Let it go,” she breathed.
I shuddered.
She kissed me like we were both on fire, and I wanted nothing more than to burn with her. She rolled her hips and murmured against my lips for me to come.
“For me,” she whispered.
The fire raged and suddenly broke.
I shuddered with the release. She dragged her nails down my back and held on for dear life until the flames flickered and died.
Carrie hung her head and panted for breath as I stepped back and released her leg. She tucked her hair behind her ears.
I pushed the door open behind her, grabbed a cigarette from the counter, lit it, and took a drag.
Carrie waved the smoke away. “You smoke like a chimney.”
