Page 86 of When We Were Reckless
“It’s just you.” Ridge barked out a laugh as I turned my back to him and texted a reply, a smug smile on my face as I tucked my phone in my pocket and crossed the room to check on my customers.
* * *
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked Jesse when he opened the door, shirtless and barefoot in faded denim, the Weeknd’s “Can’t Feel My Face” blasting from inside. His gaze was predatory, and I saw his eyes darken as they roamed down my body, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
“How am I looking at you?” He braced his arm on the doorframe, and I stared at the thick veins. Vein porn at its finest. My gaze lowered to the obvious bulge in his jeans and stayed there a moment before returning to his face. His gaze was so heated I was surprised I didn’t burst into flames.
Our text messages must have had the same effect on him as they had on me—the ultimate foreplay.
“Like you’re the Big Bad Wolf, and I’m about to become your next meal.”
He bared his teeth and let out a low growl. Oh God. Excitement had me squirming and rubbing my thighs together, but I kept my hands clasped like a good girl. In his text messages, he said I wasn’t allowed to touch him.
Why would I have ever agreed to that? The urge to touch him was so intense now that I could feel my hands itching to do it.
“Pretty accurate.” With a wicked grin, he grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. The door slammed shut behind me, and he pushed me against it, pinning my hands to the wall above my head. The only light in the room was from the moonlight streaming through the windows and the light spilling from the kitchen.
“Are you sure you want me bare?” he asked, pushing his body into mine and capturing the underside of my jaw with his mouth. He bit and kissed his way down my neck, and I arched it, allowing him free rein.
I wanted to feelallof him.
I already told him that in my text message, so we’d gotten that whole awkward conversation out of the way. He was clean. I was on birth control. So we were good to go. “Positive.”
Jesse kept my hands pinned above my head with one hand and dragged his fingers down my throat, playing with me, a wicked gleam in his eyes like he knew he could do anything he wanted, and I would go along with it.
Goosebumps raised the hairs on my arms, and a chill ran through me, anticipating what was to come.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, tracing the hollow at the base of my neck. Then, when I didn’t respond, he pressed against it, feeling the thrum of my racing pulse under his fingertips.
This felt like a test, and maybe I should have said no, but I found myself nodding.
“Use your words, Sunshine Girl.”
“Y-yes.”
I gasped when his hand wrapped around my throat, and he squeezed lightly, testing how far he could go, his eyes never leaving my face as he tightened his hold.
I was breathless, nervous and excited. The fear factor only heightened my enjoyment. Maybe I shouldn’t have liked this, the way he was taking command, being so possessive, but I did. My core clenched and the ache built inside me, my clit pulsing between my legs. I could feel how wet I was, so needy and desperate for him. My body hummed, and my heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the music.
With his hand still wrapped around my throat and both of mine still pinned to the door, he dipped his head and traced my lips with his tongue, then dragged it over my jaw, slowly, ever so slowly. My eyes drifted shut, and I could feel my nipples growing hard, sending tingles up my arms.
He released my throat and slipped his hand under my T-shirt, and I pushed up on my tiptoes as he palmed my breast and guided it into his mouth, biting my nipple through the fabric of my lacy bra.
I moaned, writhing against the door and panting as he lavished the same attention on my other breast. I struggled to free my hands so I could touch him, but he tightened his grip.
“You don’t get to touch me.”
I whimpered, and he silenced me with a bruising kiss, his mouth crashing down on mine, his tongue hot and demanding. A jolt of adrenaline shot through me, and my whole body was buzzing. Every nerve ending in my body felt lit up.
I wanted more. More pain. More pleasure. More everything.
Without breaking contact, our lips still sealed in a kiss, he yanked down my hands and twisted them behind my back. Then, turning us around, he walked me backward across the living room, my feet stumbling when my legs hit the back of the sofa.
Then, suddenly, he spun me around, and with his hand on my lower back, he folded me over the arm of the sofa. My cheek pressed against the soft leather, and he pushed my hands into the sofa cushion.
“Don’t move,” he commanded.
With rough hands, he yanked up my skirt and fisted my panties, ripping them off my body. Oh my God. I heard the lace tear, and then they flew across the room.
