Page 82 of That Girl is Trouble

“Keep your hands above your head, or I stop,” he says, relieving me of his hold as he moves lower on the bed. He trails a line of wet kisses down my chest, over the plane of my stomach, and between my legs. My back arches as he bites at the cleft of my panties, his tongue teasing at the edges, making me want more, need more.

I groan, moving my hands to his head. But as I do, he stills, releasing a sigh.

“What did I say, Kat? Hands above your fucking head. You move. I stop. Understand?”

I nod, and when he arches a brow expectantly, I sigh. Right. Words. “Yes, I understand,” I say, lifting my hands back up and gripping the headboard.

With a satisfied smirk, he moves his mouth back over my panties, torturing and teasing me but never letting his tongue breach the thin cotton material separating us.

My body quivers the moment his fingers hook around the edge. The quiver turns to a full-on tremor when he pulls them to the side, exposing my pussy to his mouth. Hovering above me, he smiles and lowers his head. And god, my skin, my body, my fucking everything screams for his touch, for the warmth of his tongue, at the promise that the leg-shaking desire pummelling through me will be sated as he—

“Kat!” a voice yells out from the down the hall.

We both freeze, because that voice sounds a lot like the overbearing, asshole, stand-in big brother I’ve come to adore a little. “Kat, you up here?”

“Shit!” I scramble away from Axe and scan the room, panicked.

“Relax,” he whispers, but there’s a flash of something on his face. He wants to disappear as much as I want him to.

“In the closet.”

“You’re joking,” he says, glowering. But he regards me for a moment, surely realizing that I most certainly am not. He scoffs. “This is my fucking house, Kat, and I sure as fuck am not going to—”

“Shut up,” I hiss, pulling him off the bed and herding him towards the closet, ignoring the furious look he gives me when I push against his chest and slam the door shut.

A heavy knock rattles my door.

“Just a second!” I yell as I frantically dig through my bag. I pull on a pair of black sleep shorts and an old T-shirt as I stumble to the door, tripping over my boots on my way.

“Jack,” I say, my breathing laboured as the door hits the wall. “Hey. What’s up?”

Grinning, he pulls me into a hug, much like the one Tex gave me last night, lifting me off my feet, forcing the air to escape my lungs in a painful huff. “Missed you, kid. How was the drive?” he asks as he drops me back onto my feet. His long brown hair is tied up in that man bun that Triss seems to swoon over, but most of the tattoos that decorate his arms are hidden by the dark hoody he wears under his leather cut.

“It was… it was good. A little long,” I lie.

He tilts his head and props himself up against the doorjamb, his large frame taking up most of the small space. “What’s up? You sick? Face is lookin’ all flushed.”

I clear my throat. “This is just what I look like when I wake up, asshole. Gimme a minute or two to acclimate.”

“Danforth women and your aversion to early mornings. Most days your sister won’t even speak to me until she’s had at least two cups of coffee. Look, I gotta run to the garage. Come see me when you’re cleaned up, yeah? And I wouldn’t use that bathroom,” he says, jerking his head to the small door at the other side of the room. “Use mine. Triss cleans that one.”

“You know, you can clean it too. Just because you’re men doesn’t mean you have to be disgusting.”

He shrugs. “I clean some, but she tells me I’m no good at it and cleans up after I clean up. Seems pointless.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s called weaponized incompetence, and it’s pathetic. Get out, Grave Man, before I throw you out.”

Chuckling, he slips out the door and shuts it behind him. The moment the latch clicks, Axe pulls open the closet door and yanks me inside. He slams my back hard against the wall, rips off my T-shirt, and drops to his knees before hastily pulling down my shorts and thong and gliding his warm tongue over the length of my slit.

“Shit,” I breathe as my legs buckle. I grasp the closet rod to keep my balance and slap my other hand against the wall as he digs his fingers into the flesh of my ass and pulls me up, hooking both my legs over his shoulders.

Below me, his perfectly chiseled face is etched with hunger, the muscles of his shoulders tensing, his hands shaking as they hold me. As if this is all he fucking needs. Just this.

He grins viciously. “You like seeing me this way, Kitty? A man like me. On his knees praising your perfect little cunt?”

My chest heaves, and I arch my hips towards his mouth, coaxing him closer. “It’s a good look on you,” I breathe. “So start praising.”

With a chuckle, Axe presses his mouth down hard on my pussy, spurring my hips to jerk up against him as he buries himself between my legs.

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