Page 77 of Wicked Me
He rested his head on the back of his seat, staring blankly through the windshield, while the ends of his blond hair played with the collar of the leather jacket he always wore when he wasn’t half naked. His eyelashes fanned quick shadows on his cheeks with every blink, and his stubbled Adam’s apple bobbed on a swallow. The man was a god, his very presence filling the car with a dizzying, dangerous mix of leather, musk, and sex appeal.
“You’re looking at me,” he murmured.
“Yeah,” I said simply.
He sighed and turned toward me. “Why?”
“Because you’re a hard book to read. It’s like the words on your pages are sometimes written in a language I can’t understand.”
His gaze dipped to my lips and lingered there for several long seconds, each one triggering a tighter and tighter clench to my thighs. “Maybe someday you will.”
“Maybe,” I breathed.
This thing we had, this chemical attraction, hummed between us while the rain drummed our own private beat. I could sure get used to this, sitting next to him, while he looked at me like a thing to be worshipped. And the need to be worshipped by him rushed an electrical ache through me more powerful than the burst of lightning overhead.
A half smile in place, he tipped his head toward the front door and said, “Ready?”
The next instant, we threw ourselves out of the car and were soaked by the time we made it to the porch. Moonlight slanted through the half-circle window at the top of the door and lit Sam’s face in an angelic glow. But something in his eyes flashed dark and dangerous and not angelic at all. I shivered under his probing gaze as he jabbed his key into the lock, and blood rushed in tingling waves to my center.
Once inside, I reached for the entryway light switch.
“Leave it,” he said, voice low, and took a single step toward me.
We stood so close our lips almost touched. My whole body magnetized toward him, and I didn’t bother to fight against the heat he fueled through my veins since it was a losing battle anyway. I wanted him to feel the thread of trust I’d wrapped around my heart for him when he pressed against me. I wanted him body and soul.
My lips feathered against his when I said, “Okay.”
We shared the same breath, searching in the dark for what the other wanted, or maybe to be absolutely sure.
“Okay,” I said again and smiled against his lips. Okay.
Encouragement completed.
He swept his fingers through my hair toward the nape of my neck and pulled, angling my face toward his, then pushed me against the wall with the force of his body. His mouth captured mine in a searing kiss. The air left my lungs from both the impact and the urgency of his tongue, but I didn’t care. I held to both sides of his face to ground myself to some kind of reality, to remind myself that this was really happening, that it was about damn time.
He undid the button on my jeans and dragged the zipper down. His hands worked the pants down my thighs in too slow of a crawl, his lips only relenting with his groan.
“You’re not wearing any underwear to rip off,” he growled.
I laughed, but it changed into a gasp when he cupped my ass. A powerful need throbbed through my body at the skin-on-skin contact.
“Sam,” I moaned into his mouth.
An answering rumble thundered through his chest and into mine, vibrating pulsing thrills down to my toes, and I lost all control. My fingers fumbled to tear his shirt off. My hips rocked against him. I melted into his hands, needing,craving, so much more.
He pulled away from our kiss for a moment, lips swollen, eyes shuttered with need, and met every thrust of my hips with his own. His stubble scraped along my cheek to nip and lick and tease my neck, and I tilted my head to grant him full access. One of his hands kneaded my ass so my hip bone grinded against his erection, and every brush of his fingertips stormed slick desire to my core. He tugged at my shirt with the other.
“I don’t know the combination to this lacey tie-up thing you’re wearing,” he said between heavy pants.
I reached behind me to pull the tie, and the thin fabric fell away from my shoulders. Sam’s heated gaze pinned to my chest and the cleavage that practically burst out of my pushup bra.
“Do you think you can handle it from here?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
He flashed a wicked grin and unclasped my bra within seconds. His gaze roamed over my completely naked body, drinking me in with a thirst that sparked the blood in my veins to run faster. That look and the determined set of his jaw while he took his shirt off made my insides quiver. Not from nervousness or doubt, but anticipation.
Lightning strobed outside, accentuating the dips and creases of his muscled body, and the air crackled with electricity both inside and outside the house.
His gaze locked on mine, he yanked down his boxers and took his erection in his hand. Always so uninhibited.
