Page 14 of The Trouble With Tomboys (Tommy Creek 1)

Not wanting him to break their connection, she bit down on his bottom lip.

In response, he growled and gripped her face in his hands, trying to pry her away, but not succeeding because she dug her teeth in and refused to let him go.

He buried his fingers under her ponytail and balled his hands, capturing two fistfuls of hair and grasping them tight like he was wrapping horse reins around his knuckles. Knowing he intended to yank her off him by the roots of her hair, she retreated instantly, letting go of his lip with a sob of surrender.

They both froze, gaping at each other, chests heaving. His hands remained buried deep in her hair, ruining her ponytail all to hell. Her mouth trembled, moist and swollen. She tasted blood. His blood. Needing some semblance of order in her scattered brain, she licked the salty flavor off her bottom lip.

For some reason, that was his undoing.

With a moan that wasn’t quite human, he tightened his fingers in her hair until she gasped. Then he attacked, dragging her back to him and kissing her senseless. He took control, becoming the aggressor. His mo

uth punished as it moved against hers, bruising and savage. When she opened for him, he plunged his tongue deep, letting out an agonized, hungry sound and ravaging the moist, hot cavity within.

He grew hard against her stomach. She whimpered, envisioning the heated length of him buried deep inside her.

“Grady,” she moaned. But his breathless name on her lips must’ve alerted him to reality because he yanked away, wheezing furiously, and spun blindly toward the wall to brace himself with one arm.

She panted too, gaping at him through her wet lashes. Oxygen chugged into her lungs so fast it burned her chest. His shoulders lifted and fell with their own erratic, unsteady rhythm.

He wouldn’t meet her gaze as he held up the wall. But when he blew out a shuddered breath and turned, she saw his side profile and caught sight of a flushed expression with glazed eyes. Pulling himself together, he cleared his throat, stepped past her, and once again started for his room, staggering unsteadily.

B.J. wasn’t about to let him go. “You responded to me,” she said, hurrying after him. “Are you just going to ignore that?”

He didn’t answer.

“Well, I’m not going to let you. I’m not going to let you just walk away from this.” She tugged him around. “You’re still alive, Grady. You have to accept that.”

“Don’t,” he whispered raggedly, gritting his teeth like he was in pain. His command was part plea, part order.

Taking her wrist, he weakly pulled her hand off his arm. But he didn’t let go of her. Instead, he tightened his grip and looked down at her body. His ragged breathing intensified, and his eyes dilated as they focused on her pouting nipples pushing against wet cloth.

B.J. swallowed. She wanted his mouth on those hard, throbbing peaks. She wanted his tongue stroking her. An electric current spiraled up the insides of her thighs, growing damp and heavy between her legs.

Stepping toward him, she gently pulled her wrist from his captivity and slid her hand around the back of his neck. He was taller than her and certainly stronger. If he wanted to escape, he could. But he merely watched her warily as she drew his head down.

He closed his eyes and lowered his face to receive her. She eased her lips back to his.

This kiss was soft. So soft, she couldn’t take it. Thinking her point proven, she moved back, giving him mercy, or maybe giving herself mercy. But his lips followed hers. Her skin buzzed with awareness, and an almost painful tightening began in the bottom of her stomach. He cupped her face and drew her back, opening his mouth and demanding more.

Their tastes melded; she groaned and sank against him, deepening the contact. Feeling primal as she pushed her tongue into his mouth, B.J. wrapped her arms around his neck and arched against him. Grady pulled her closer and devoured her, leaving her no air to breathe, only hormones jazzed and ready for action.

He stroked his hands down to her waist, then grasped the hem of her shirt and jerked it up, cupping her breasts through her bra and finding the pouting tips that had first taunted him. She groaned and shivered.

“God damn you,” he managed to hiss against her mouth only to use his tongue to invade and his hips to grind hard against hers. “Damn you to hell for this.”

He freed one nipple and rolled it between his thumb and index finger, making her cry out.

She swallowed and choked on the sound, suddenly realizing what was happening.

Whoa. Wait. Public hotel hallway.

“My room,” she wheezed before he sealed his mouth back to hers and continued to torment her.

She backed toward her door, which was only a few steps behind her. He followed, crowding her space and stroking her nonstop. Though she had no idea how she managed to unlock her room without coming up for air, the door slipped open, and she and Grady tumbled inside, not once breaking what was fast becoming the greatest kiss of all time.

A slight glow emanated from the bathroom where she’d forgotten to turn off the light before leaving to go down to supper. But otherwise, they kissed in the dark. She barely had the door shut before he pushed her against it and worked open the top button of her damp jeans. He only broke the kiss to nip at her jaw with his teeth. Not bothering to flip on a light, B.J. kicked off her boots and reached for his belt buckle.

She barely unzipped his trousers in the time it took him to shed her jeans and underwear in one mighty tug. He didn’t say anything, but he did let out a groan when he covered her mound with a hot palm and kneaded her once before pushing a finger inside to find her soaked and dripping.

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