Page 57 of Full Tilt
Because Tommy couldn’t wait to get me into his bedroom, I’m sitting on his white marble island, my lower half completely naked and exposed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask when his hand disappears between my thighs.
All he does is smirk, and I roll my eyes.
“If you aren’t going to tell me, then I’m not sticking around to find out.” I go to slide off the island.
Tommy’s jaw tics, one hand moving from the counter next to me and resting on the top of my thigh. Thick, dark hair falls over his deep brown eyes, and even if I still wanted to, moving is no longer an option.
I’m paralyzed by this man. That, and too fucking stupid to walk away when I know all he can give me is a night filled with orgasms, coupled with the heavy weight of regret the next morning.
I take the opportunity to study his bare chest and tattoos more carefully as he stands in front of me, wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs that hug his perfect hockey thighs.
There’s still a hint of bourbon on his breath, but given the size of this guy, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s back in control of his senses. That, combined with the thirty-minute Uber ride we took in silence.
As Tommy’s lips ghost over mine, it’s not lost on me that we’ve never kissed, although I’ve thought multiple times that he was going to.
“What do you want me to do, Jenna?” he asks, so fucking sure of himself that it makes me sick.
I look up into his eyes. We’re nose to nose.
“I’d like you to do anything because right now, I’m really fucking bored.”
His lips tip into a wicked smile, leaving me in no doubt that he’s right in his element and I’m right where he wants me.
“Before you interrupted me, I was going to finger your pussy. But given that all that leaves your mouth is bullshit I can’t stand, I’m thinking I’ll stuff my cock in it and give us all a fucking rest.”
My breathing is ragged, my words barely a whisper. “Is that what you did with the blonde chick? You silenced her with your dick?”
He’s already told me that she never touched his dick. Still, I’m not about to let what he did go. He doesn’t get any free passes from me.
Tommy brings his hand from between my thighs to play with my hair. He hasn’t touched my pussy even though it contracts like I’m on my third climax.
He wraps a piece of my hair around his tattooed finger, and I swallow hard, wondering what’s going to leave his mouth next.
“How many times do I need to tell you that she didn’t suck my dick?” He tugs on the strand, pulling my head to one sideand exposing my neck. He ghosts his lips over my soft skin. It’s a possessive move, and I hate myself for loving it. “How did it feel, Jenna? Thinking I was with another girl.”
I know what he’s referring to—that day in Rise Up, when I casually disclosed my one-night stand from the night before.
“I felt nothing,” I lie.
“Final chance before I fill this bullshitting mouth.”
My lips tingle with anticipation. I’ve never been especially bothered about giving a guy head, but I know going down on Tommy will be good.
“All I felt was hatred and not an ounce of anything else,” I lie again.
He drops my hair and finds the waistband of his boxers, pushing them to the floor in a single motion. I’m the perfect height to be entered.
“So, if I pushed inside another woman like this”—with one hand around his thick shaft, Tommy eases himself inside me—“you wouldn’t give a fuck that it wasn’t you?”
Lost for words, I shake my head, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes in response to the way he stretches me out.
I forgot how big he actually was.
When I look down between us, the tattoo scribed around his dick disappears completely, and then he’s seated all the way inside.
He doesn’t move, and neither do I.
