Chapter 26

twenty-six

Wrenlee

Cash’s voice is like sin. It’s stealth in its invasion into the deepest parts of me, feeling so damn good as it hits the spot.

Every time I watch Cash on stage, letting the rough tenor of his voice move over me, I hate to admit that I’m more moved than I want to be.

Watching him is like candy. One minute isn’t enough just as one candy is never enough. I need more minutes. I need all the minutes. Just like when I crack open that bag of cinnamon hearts on Valentine’s Day, I need them all—even though in the end, my tongue is painfully raw. I already know it’s going to be the same way with Cash. No self-control. In the end, my heart is going to be bleeding and raw and I’m going to have only myself to blame.

Still, as the rough sound of his voice moves over me now, I’m able to block out the sounds of screaming girls devoting their hearts and souls to him as the beat of a familiar song ends and a new, unheard melody begins.

“New music,” Candace muses next to me. “Cash must be writing.”

I can’t take my eyes off the man dressed in black as he parts his lips and sings. Prickles of awareness wash over my skin as his words cleaver down on my heart, splitting me wide for him. Tonight, I’m not sitting at a table. Tonight, I’m on the dance floor with everyone else, lost to Devils Heartbreak as the lyrics of his new song spill lava in my veins even as those pebbles on my skin intensify, raising hair.

This new song isn’t like his usual. Like all the others, it’s dark and deliciously captivating. Rough and raw. Tuned to absolute perfection. Where it differs from all the others I’ve heard thus far isn’t in the tone of the music, but rather the meaning of the lyrics.

Pale skin, bleeding heart

Just one more moment in this dark

Breathing deep, breathing rough

I’ll be the drum master of her heart

This love is dark

I’m breaking my promises now

She’s holding me under

Gold hair spun in white in moonlight

She’s holding me under

Vanilla cream on my tongue, a temptation I can’t resist

I’ll slide into forever for this

I’m breaking my promises now

Breathy sighs like sirens in the night

My flesh to sear, her fingertips so near

Burn me, baby, light it all up

My dark soul in flames, set in the palm of your hand

I’ll light your way into the dark of my lands

There’s no escaping this

It’s dangerous

I’m breaking my promises now

She’s holding me under

Golden hair spun in white moonlight

She’s holding me under

Vanilla cream on my tongue, a temptation I can’t resist

I’ll slide into forever for this

I’m breaking my promises now

Said I’d let her go, I lied

Prison bars disguised as vows

This protection is my obsession

Her soul I’ll keep, my reins she holds

Whips to lash out at my soul

This imprint, delicious

There’s bliss in this torment

I’m breaking my promises now

She’s holding me under

Golden hair spun in white moonlight

She’s holding me under

Vanilla cream on my tongue, a temptation I can’t resist

I’ll slide into forever for this

I’m breaking my promises now

Addicted to rough lips on soft skin

The taste of cream, my poison

She can’t escape this love, it’s hopeless

Birthed of broken promises, my dark obsession

This love is dangerous, endless

I’m breaking all my promises now

“Oh my God,” I breathe. Even if his eyes weren’t locked on me the entirety of the song, his voice thick and husky, a promise to strip me bare and use me until I’m raw—I know this song is meant for me. No, it’s not just meant for me. It’s mine.

“Holy shit.” The shock in Candace’s voice echoes my own. “Cash is in a mood.”

I have no words. The crowd has gone wild. If he didn’t already star in the darkest fantasies of every woman in this club, he does now. In the time I’d been faking this with Cash, never once had I heard such an eruption from the crowd.

“He made it obvious that song was about you.” Candace leans in close, hand tightening around my arm. “We should sit.”

“Why?”

“People are starting to stare, take photos and—” She starts to pull me off the dance floor. “Sometimes people can get out of hand when someone else has something they want. Right now, every vagina in this room wants your man.”

He’s not my manis on the tip of my tongue. Then the lyrics begin to play in my mind, and I’m not so sure anymore if this is fake.

What promise is Cash breaking? The promise to let me go? To feel nothing for me at all? The promise to keep things simple, uncomplicated, and easily forgotten?

He shattered that promise with his very first kiss.

Candace pulls me into the booth at the side of the stage as Cash grinds out an old crowd favorite. I count four pairs of panties tossed on the stage at his feet, but I don’t care, because he’s not the only one with the strappy grave of unmentionables under the soles of his boots. Kane’s got quite the pile tonight, but unlike Cash, who kicks them to the side, Kane grins proudly at his dirty little collection.

“Urgh,” Candace huffs. She’s got one hand pointed to where Ian stands on stage, a lump of frosty blue material on the toe of his boot. “Gross. Like, who tosses their crab infested undies on someone else?”

“Ew. I’m less concerned about the STI and more about the money they’re throwing away. Panties aren’t cheap, and those definitely aren’t from a bag.”

Candace side-eyes me, head notching back on her shoulders. “Your panties come in a bag?”

I shrug. “Usually.”

“Girl.” She shakes her head. “No.”

“It’s cost-effective.”

“It’s a libido killer.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes.

Her mouth drops. “Do you even have any sexy lingerie?”

I can feel my face beginning to heat. “Lingerie? Nope. I have a few pairs of lace panties Cash bought though.”

“Hell.” She pulls out her phone, tapping into her calendar. “I’m free Sunday morning. We’re going shopping.”

“I don’t need lingerie.”

“Cash is your man, babe. You need sexy lingerie.”

Folding my arms over my chest, I sit back to study Cash on stage. It takes three simple words to define his energy up there. Raw. Rough. Sex.

But his energy with me is more. Sure, he’s always raw, rough, sex. But he’s also gentle, sweet, tender, respectful even as he’s domineering, dangerous, and dark.

“You think?”

She leans into the table, elbows sliding toward me. “You’ll drive him crazy. Believe me, babe, driving a man like Cash wild is the goal. It’s always the goal.” She winks. “He’ll treat you for your efforts.”

My face is on fire now. Not just my face either, my whole body feels doused in flames.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help.” She jots a date with me into her calendar. “Besides, the boys have a practice session Sunday morning.”

“They do?” This is the first I’m hearing of it.

“Yeah.” She nods. “They missed a bit when you were sick. Cash wasn’t in the headspace.” Her hand flies to the stage. “Clearly he’s in the headspace now, because that new song is gonna be the thing to sign Devils Heartbreak, you just wait and see.”

Dragging crisp, cold air into my lungs, I snuggle deeper into Cash’s side as we leave the club. It’s so late, and even though I’m feeling the effects of the exhaustion I haven’t quite been able to shake since the poisoning, I’m not ready for bed.

“Do you think we can sit in the hot tub at home for a bit before bed?”

Cash peers down at me, one brow notched. “You’re not tired?”

“I am, but I’m not at the same time.”

He studies me. “You’ve been feeling better.”

“I have.” I answer his non-question.

“That’s good.” His voice is low and rumbly and dark. “I’ve been—worried.”

I know he’s been worried, so I don’t acknowledge it. Instead, I say, “I like your new song.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s not like your others.”

“I’ve been inspired.”

I’m about to reply when something hot pink in Cash’s windshield catches my eye. At first, I think it’s a ticket. Then I register how ridiculous that assumption is, because tickets aren’t hot pink. Ever.

“What’s that?” I ask as Cash reaches for the folded cardstock, leaning closer to read it when he flips it open.

Thanks for the fun, Sinner.

XOXO

I frown. “Who is that from?”

“Don’t know,” Cash mutters, but his jaw is tight, and his eyes are dark as they scan the parking lot. I get the sense that he does know, and that bothers me.

Cash shoves the note into his pocket and saying nothing, I reach for the passenger door and pull. The note definitely put me in my place, reminding me that this thing between us isn’t real. After tonight, after the high I got dosed with when he sang his new song, the plunge I take with the fall from that note is steep.

As soon as we enter Cash’s condo, he moves to his room. When he emerges again, he lands those dark eyes on me and says, “Get changed, Kitten.”

I blink, frowning. “What?”

“Swimsuit.” His eyes glitter with dark mirth. “Unless you’re in the mood to soak naked.”

I lift my chin, feeling suddenly prickly. I can’t stop thinking about the note. I can’t unsee it. The pink of the cardstock or the sharp, feminine slant of the writing.

“I’m not in the mood for anything but bed.”

He just stares at me—all the parts of him hard. “Kitten.”

“I’m tired, Cash.”

He continues to study me, before he closes the distance between us until I’m backed into the wall, trapped, and he’s all around me, but not physically touching me at all. “The note is from a woman I used to fuck. I haven’t been with anyone since you moved in. Not even thinking of other women, Kitten.” He drops his head a notch when I inhale a sharp breath that tastes of him. Of sin and darkness, warm whiskey and cinnamon hearts. “She knows I’ve moved on, that I’m with you. She’s trying to start shit.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Don’t let her.”

Dropping my head to his chest, I close my eyes and inhale deep. I feel suddenly overstimulated and overdone. Minutes ago, I’d said I was tired because I was angry. Now, now I just want to snuggle in bed and dissect the reality that is the undeniable feelings I have for Cash Jagger. Because I do have feelings for him. Big feelings.

I shouldn’t. He’s my fake boyfriend. Boundaries have been drawn—hell, I’m the one who drew them. I knew better than to let myself fall for him. I know better.

And yet…

Defeat slumps my shoulders when I sigh loudly against his chest. “I do want to go to bed, Cash.”

His arms wrap around me, pulling my body flush to his. Heat stirs where it shouldn’t stir. My body aches in a way it shouldn’t ache. I drew the lines to protect myself and look at me, I fell anyway.

“Tell me you’re not mad.” The bite of rough stubble nips into the tender skin of my neck as he speaks against my throat.

“I’m not mad,” I whisper, but is that sadness I hear in my voice? No, not sadness, it’s something else. Something worse. Something like loss.

I don’t even have Cash, not really, and yet I feel as though, with the realization that I’ve fallen for him, I’ve lost him. He’s not real. Not in the way I need him to be in order to let my heart crack wide to let him slip inside.

Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t have any control over who invades my heart. Cash is proof of that, because in just a couple months he broke his way inside. An invasion of the most stealth and ruthless kind. Now I’m at his mercy.

So painfully at his mercy.

His arms tighten around me, and he lifts me off the ground, forcing me to lift my legs around his waist, linking my ankles at his back as another stab of painful longing daggers me deep. I want him to feel for me the way he’s made me feel for him. I want him to want me as more than his fake girlfriend.

For a moment tonight, when I’d stood on that dance floor and let the lyrics of his song touch me, I thought he did.

Then I saw that note. It was a punch to the gut I can’t forget even if he says it’s an ex trying to stir the pot.

Still, I can’t ignore the truth of the way I feel, either. But I can shove it down deep to fester, and I do just that as I wiggle from his arms, chancing just a quick peek at him. “I really am tired, Cash.” He releases me as he rocks back on his heels, angling his head back so I get a good view of the hard set to his square jaw. My voice rattles, “Goodnight,” as I make my escape.

I’m almost at the mouth of the hall when his voice stops me.

It’s like a match tossed on gasoline. “Where’s my goodnight kiss, Kitten?”

Turning to him, I say, “I thought you were done with those.”

He prowls toward me. My heart flutters. “Why would you think a thing like that?”

I swallow hard. “You haven’t asked.”

His eyes ignite with something deliciously sinful at the sound of my breath-snared words. “You were sick. You’re not anymore.”

“Oh.” It’s all I have time to get out before his hand is clasping the back of my neck and he’s pulling me nearer. His mouth covers mine. He doesn’t kiss me gently. It’s not a stealth invasion. No, this invasion is openly made and just a little brutal. He kisses me so deep; I swear he thrums a heartstring, forcing me to open to him like a puppet at his whim, dancing solely to his tune.

He kisses me until I’m dizzy. Until I don’t think I’ll survive another moment without air. When he finally pulls away, I’m a mess and he—he’s perfectly composed.

“Sweet dreams, Kitten,” is all he says before he turns away and strolls to his room, closing the door behind him.

My entire body is alight with heat, and it only takes me a few seconds to come to the conclusion that I need a cold shower STAT.

In the shower, the cold water does nothing but make my teeth chatter. My body still wants Cash. My heart still feels heavy and swollen in my chest. That place between my legs is still warm and throbbing.

I hate what he does to me just as I love it.

Tipping my head back, face in the spray of water, I let out a disgruntled sound that echoes in the space. Wiping my face of water, I glare up at the shower head. I’ve read so many shower masturbation scenes in my books, but I’ve never understood how one uses the shower head. And right now, I’m so desperate for release, I’ll try just about anything—but not that.

Leaning against the wall, I push my hand between my legs and squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t masturbate on a regular. I have nothing against it and have tried plenty of times, but I can’t seem to get myself there. Sure, it feels nice and all, but it’s not the explosion I read about. It definitely can’t be compared to the way Cash makes me feel when he touches me—when he makes me come. After a few minutes, I’m hot and frustrated and beyond annoyed as I towel off.

Shoving into a beer t-shirt, I brush my teeth and stomp to bed. Under the covers, my body hums. I can’t stop thinking about Cash, and I wish I would have just gone to the hot tub with him. But I’d been so bent about that note.

Who does that anyway? Who leaves notes like that for their ex to make the current flame jealous? Who goes out of their way to create drama like that?

Crazy people, that’s who! Cash’s ex is crazy!

I roll onto my side, hugging my pillow as I slam my eyes closed and try to sleep. I count sheep and somehow circle back to his kiss and the way his rough voice sounds in my ear. I flip onto my back, glaring up at the dark ceiling before giving up and throwing back my covers.

I decide a cup of hot milk will do the trick, and head for the door of my bedroom only to find myself standing not in the kitchen—but outside Cash’s door.

Apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment.

There’s no light coming from under the door, so he very well could already be asleep. Besides, I don’t know what I’m doing here. What am I going to say if he answers when I knock?

Hey, I can’t sleep because I’m all worked up and I can’t make myself cum like you do—please help?

Yeah, no.

I turn away from his door only to spin back around. I don’t think as I knock. It’s in the heartbeat after that I feel the first pinch of regret.

I shouldn’t have done that.

“Come in.” His voice has my heart knocking in my chest, a drumbeat echoing loudly between my ears.

I’m pretty sure my hand trembles as I open his door, standing stiffly at the threshold. Cash isn’t asleep after all. His room also isn’t dark, because he’s sitting at his desk under a low golden lamplight, the rest of his room flooded in shadow.

He stands and I can’t help it when my eyes drop to his bare torso. The man is ripped. Not only are his muscles cut to perfection, but he’s big. Huge. I never imagined a man so big could make me feel so safe, but Cash does.

Even so, as he moves slowly across the room, a quiet thrill tickles through me.

He stops close but doesn’t touch me. He’s looking at me with expectation and I feel hesitant and uncertain. My hands knot at my belly, and his eyes drop before rising again, slowly over my body. With every second that drags by, my lungs tighten. Any moment and they’ll seize.

“I don’t know why I’m here.” My voice trembles. I can’t look at him. Can’t meet his eyes.

What am I doing here? What possessed me?

“That’s not true.”

My eyes snap to his at the sound of his rough timbre. “What?”

He wets his lip slowly, his eyes so fixed on me I feel as though he’s seeing into me. “You know exactly why you’re here, Kitten.”

Lifting my chin, I shuffle just a little closer to him. Still, we’re not touching, but I can feel the hot heat of him whispering against my flesh, drawing shivers from the deep of me. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

His eyes narrow, but there’s a twitch to his lips that makes me think he’s biting back a grin. “Try again.”

Heat prickles my skin where moments ago, I’d shivered. He knows what I want, I realize. He knows what I need.

He wants me to say it.

I’m not sure I can, though, and feel my eyes shift to the side where I can see the dark mouth of the hall waiting for me to make my escape.

I’m not sure I can do that either, but I don’t have to because he speaks, and his words—his tone—is a warning. “Don’t think about it, Kitten.”

“Think about what?”

“Running.” He dips his head and I catch the scent of something darkly warm and potent. My gaze travels to his desk and I see it. The glass of whiskey. “I’ll chase and I’ll catch you.”

Breath shudders from between my lips. “What then?”

His hands fist at his sides. “Run and find out,” he dares. “Or stay and tell me what you came for.”

His words have such a visceral effect on me, I feel each one like a physical caress. My skin heats, tiny prickles of awareness rising over every inch of me. An ache settles at my core, heavy and bordering on pain as a wet heat spills between my legs. Under my oversized beer t-shirt, my breasts feel unusually heavy and firm, my nipples achingly sensitive.

“I tried to make myself cum in the shower,” I whisper, and he hisses in breath. “I touched myself like you touch me, but it didn’t work. I can’t—I couldn’t make myself cum.”

“Hell.” His jaw clenches hard, his fists harder.

He wanted me to say it, so I say it. “I want you to make the pain go away. I want you to make me cum.”

“Fuck, Kitten.” His words are a sharp curse that edges a prayer. Then he’s fisting my shirt at my belly, dragging me into the room and hauling my body against his. Flames wick at my core, threatening to devour me head to toe as he drops his mouth to mine, kissing me like I’m water and he’s been trapped in the desert. He kisses me like I’m the very thing that fuels his body and feeds his ravenous soul. Like he’s going to devour me whole.

I don’t fight him. I don’t struggle at all when he lifts me into his arms, his mouth moving to nip at my throat as he carries me to his bed. He tosses me into the center, and I bounce, loosing a little shriek of surprise before he grips my knee, tugging it firmly to the side and planting his into the bed between my legs. My heart skitters inside my chest. Butterfly wings touch nerves deep inside my belly. Blood rushes through my veins. The low golden glow of the lamplight clings to him like an aura even as the dark shadows paint the powerful lines of his body as he kneels above me on the bed. His edgy darkness is beautiful in the danger it promises, and my heart kicks when he plants his palms on either side of my head, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lowers himself to kiss me again.

No, he doesn’t kiss me. He devours me. Feasts on me. Invades me.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about you in my bed.” His gaze sweeps my face, taking me in. “Imagined you like this. Beneath me.” He makes a noise deep inside his throat that sends a thrill through me, excitement zapping at my nerves like a live wire.

This desire is going to burn me alive.

“You have?”

He doesn’t answer. He just kisses me again, grinding his body into mine. My mind whirs as the sensation of his long, hard arousal stroking against me there sends my body into a tailspin of need. Arousal runs like lava in my veins—my body is an inferno.

Tearing his mouth from mine, he kisses and nips his way down my neck to my breasts. With his teeth over my shirt, he finds a nipple and gently tugs. My back arches as I throw my head back on a cry that spills unbridled from my lungs. My hands fist the blankets and I dig my heels into the bedding, wanting to pull away from him just as I want to beg him for more.

He must sense my internal war, because he chuckles darkly. It’s the only sound he makes before he does the same to the other breast, his hands now working to push the material of my shirt up, up and up. I choke silently on my breath as he bares my breasts to him for the first time. His eyes flare and his lips part. There’s a flush in his cheeks I don’t expect, and it adds a new kind of heat to the burn I’m already feeling. This man…

“Beautiful.”

My entire body absorbs his word, storing it for safe keeping in the deepest part of me. It’s such a simple word, a compliment so often tossed around, but from him in this moment, the way he says it—it’s everything.

A guttural sound rumbles from his chest as I reach up to touch his face with my fingertips. It’s like that simple touch sets something loose inside him, because he makes another noise that has my core throbbing in response before he dips his head and covers my breast with his hot mouth. And I mean he covers it, sucking my nipple hard, swirling gently with his tongue, tormenting deliciously with his teeth. My mind spins and air becomes thin.

He moves to the other breast.

I can’t think.

My body has taken over. I’m writhing beneath him as he drives me wild with tongue and teeth, breaking away only to tug my shirt over my head. I’m in nothing but my panties now, and I know by the way he’s staring down at me that they won’t last long either.

I’m right, because in the next moment, Cash’s big fingers are dipping into the bands at my hips and tugging. My heart jolts unsteadily in my chest as he pulls the material down my legs, tossing it to the floor with my shirt. I can’t help myself as I pull my legs up and slam them shut.

Cash rebukes me, “None of that, Kitten.”

His big hands settle on my knees and he parts my legs, settling his body between them but not lowering to cover me. I’ve never in my life been or felt so exposed. I’m completely naked, sprawled on his bed. The shadows that battle the dim glow of the lamp suddenly feel as though they’re pulling away, illuminating me.

Cash feasts on me with his eyes. Devouring me inch by inch. Pebbles of awareness and desire needle my flesh and I suck in a sharp, loud breath. “Cash.”

“You’re perfect, Wrenlee.” He’s sitting back on his haunches, his eyes roving over me, a massively intimidating bulge tenting the black sweats that ride low on his hips.

My heart jitters. I can’t help but wonder what he’ll feel like inside me. Will it hurt when he stretches me? Will he even fit?

Am I ready for this?

“Cash.” It’s a plea and a protest wrapped in one decadent bow just waiting to be unravelled by his capable hands. “Please. Please touch me.”

If agony and desire and broken will could be bottled, it would be the sound he pulls from deep in his chest. A groan I know I’ll forever keep in the vault of my memory. A man of shattered will.

I watch as he wets his lips, his hand reaching out to touch me. I’m already so wet, when the pad of his thumb slides over my lips, it takes no effort on his part to open them. I bite my lip hard as he presses his thumb over my clit, circling slowly. Black dots wink across my vision and I realize I’m holding my breath, letting it out in a violent burst as something hot and intense builds inside me. It’s that orgasm I’ve been unsuccessfully chasing. How is it that he’s able to have me teetering over the edge in minutes when I tried and tried without even coming close?

My breasts rise and fall with each heavy breath as he continues to work my clit with only his thumb. I’m so close. It’s about to happen, I know it. My heart is racing, hands fisting the sheets, thighs trembling when he lets loose a rough growl, pulling his hand back.

My head snaps up as I cry, “No.” As he curses, “I need to taste you.”

He spreads my thighs so wide it’s verging on painful as he drops his face, sucking my clit hard into his mouth. My head snaps back just as it snapped up, my hands releasing in the sheets to fist his hair instead.

Oh. My. Heavens…

White light bursts behind my eyes as the scrape of his teeth over the sensitive bundle has my heels digging into the bed and my body trying to escape the delicious assault of his mouth. In response, big hands grip my thighs and pin me in place as he sucks and scrapes and nips. Every time I come close to leaping; he bites down hard enough to jolt me back over the cliff. Never in my life have I imagined something quite like this. It’s agony of the most decadent kind.

When tears leak from the corners of my eyes, over my temples into my hair, I know I’ve really lost it. I’m making noises I could never imagine I’d make. Mewling. Begging. Panting. Pleading.

If I had the sense, I’d be embarrassed. But I don’t. The man has stolen every shred of self-awareness I possessed, shattering it. There’s nothing left but this baser instinct. This primitive need.

“Cash,” I cry out, writhing beneath him as he frees my clit from the delectable torment of his tongue only to replace it with his thumb. My fingers in his hair loosen only to flex tight again when he strokes his tongue down to my entrance. “Oh, God what—Ahh!” I scream a little when he shoves his tongue deep, wholly not expecting that and not quite sure if—Oh goodness, are those stars?

My entire body trembles as he tongue-fucks me with the ruthlessness of an angry, depraved man. He does this until I’m begging him to let me come, because I just can’t—I can’t—take anymore. When my pleas fall on deaf ears, I start to shove at his head.

“Please.” My body is strung so tight, I can’t think. I weep, “Cash.”

He lifts his head to look at me with a shimmer of male dominance in his eyes that ignites a spark of aroused fear inside me before he murmurs huskily, “You taste so fucking good, Kitten. Need more.” And then his mouth is on me again, sucking my clit deep as he lines up two digits and slowly, surprisingly tenderly considering how he ravished me with his tongue only seconds before, he enters me, filling me, stretching me.

I cry out, my hands in his hair again before I abandon his hair for the bedding, curling my fingers violently into the material as my body begins to quiver. He keeps stroking me. Long, slow, agonizing pumps as he strokes my clit with the tip of his tongue. Then he flicks his fingers up inside me, strumming my inner wall in such a way that I feel like I’m being torn in two, split down the seam of me. He’s snagged the string of my soul and ripped it free from my body, that’s how out of my body I suddenly feel as my orgasm crashes through me, erupting, decimating.

“Cash!” My body jerks and he lifts his head to watch me as I ride wave after wave with his fingers still pumping deep. “Oh, God—Cash!”

“That’s it, Kitten. Let go for me.”

I let go. He didn’t give me a choice in the matter. I’m not even sure I’m whole anymore, I feel shattered in the aftermath as I lay, panting in his bed, not at all scandalized when he lifts his fingers and sucks them clean as he watches me attempt to reach for the pieces of me enough to gather myself to think clearly.

“That was—” I don’t know how to explain what that was.

He quirks a devilish grin that trips my heart. “Want to do it again?”

My eyes widen and I slam my legs closed. “Are you insane? You’ll wreck me.”

“Count on it, baby.”

I can’t believe after all that, I still have the ability to tingle.

That’s when I drag my eyes down the length of him, my eyes pausing on the bulge. I wet my lips and can’t believe the throaty voice that sounds is mine. “My turn.”