One Night of Trouble (After Hours #3)

He kissed her, tasted her, inhaled her. The scent of roses and lavender filled his nostrils, a fragrance that seemed almost too sweet for a woman wearing leather fuck-me boots and covered in tattoos.

His mouth traveled up the graceful column of her throat toward her ear. As he sucked gently on her earlobe, he slowed down, enjoying the spectacular sensation of sliding in and out of her tight sheath.

“No,” she blurted out. “Faster. Harder, damn it.”

“No.” He teased her earlobe with his tongue. One hand left her waist to circle her body, lazily seeking out her clit. The second he made contact, she bucked like a wild horse and let out a tormented moan.

“I like you like this.” His mouth abandoned her ear to whisper into the nape of her neck, the baby-fine hairs there tickling his lips. “Pinned against the wall, letting me take you from behind. I can’t see your eyes, but I can picture the look on your face. Hazy, desperate… Are you desperate, angel?”

“No, I’m angry.” She gave another backward thrust, her inner muscles bearing down on his cock as if to trap him inside her. “You’re talking too much when you should be making me come.”

AJ laughed at her impatience. He threaded his fingers through her hair, then tugged hard to twist her head toward him. The sight of her nearly did him in. Cheeks flushed and eyes glazed with desperation, just as he’d predicted.

A sense of power washed over him, a jolt of adrenaline he’d only ever experienced in an MMA cage. He’d been with lots of women. Women who wanted him, women who loved every damn thing he did to them, but it had never been like this. Brett’s face conveyed naked passion that made his heart race. She didn’t hide a thing from him. She was raw and uninhibited and had no problem telling him—no, showing him—exactly what she wanted.

Except…he suddenly wanted something else tonight.

The relentless need to come had been replaced by a stronger one—the urge to control. To push their boundaries.

Releasing a slow, unsteady breath, he slid out of her body and removed the condom.

“What are you doing?” She was practically wailing, shock and disbelief etched into her pretty features. “Why are you stopping?”

“I’m trying something out.” He tossed the condom in the wastebasket near the door and tucked his monster erection back into his pants. “I want you to go home.”

Brett stayed rooted in place, her dress still bunched around her waist, her jaw wide open. “Are you kidding me? You want me to go home? Now? Are you insane?”

The fire in her eyes brought a rueful grin to his lips. “Probably,” he admitted.

Probably? Nuh-uh. Try absolutely. His cock was as angry with him as Brett was, poking so hard into his zipper that he wouldn’t be surprised if it bore the impression of tiny metal teeth marks.

“But I’m interested in conducting an experiment,” he finished. “Call it an exercise in anticipation if you want.”

“Yeah? Well, you can take your exercise and shove it up your butt!”

He ignored her enraged shout and took another step back. “One more thing,” he added.

“You can take your ‘one more thing’ and shove it up your butt!”

A laugh popped out. “Stop threatening to put things in my ass and listen.” He folded his arms over his chest. “When you get home tonight, you’re not allowed to touch yourself.”

“Excuse me?” She glared daggers at him.

“I mean it,” he said sternly. “If you come, I’ll know.”

Her mouth closed. Then opened again. Then closed. “Oh my God. I’m this close to punching you in the face right now, you know that? You invited me here tonight, you’re throwing me out, and now you’re telling me what I can or can’t do when I get home?”

“Yup.”

“You are unbelievable.” She charged forward, her dress fluttering over her thighs, effectively covering her from view. “This isn’t cool,” she snapped, her cheeks redder than a fire engine. “I’m dying here. I want this.”

“And you’ll get it.” He smirked. “Tomorrow.”

“No way. We either finish this now, or we don’t finish it at all.”

“We’ll finish it.” He offered a careless shrug. “Tomorrow.”

Brett gaped at him. He’d never seen a woman look more livid, and maybe it made him a total jackass, but he was kind of digging the whole I’m-going-to-murder-you vibes she was throwing off.

Just meant it would be all the more explosive when he finally gave them what they both craved.

“Oh, what time should we go to your dad’s house tomorrow?”

She stared at him as if he’d just confessed to strangling her cat. “We? We? You’re living in a dream world if you think that’s ever—” She stopped abruptly, every breath coming out as a harsh pant. “Listen up, AJ—what the hell does AJ stand for, anyway?”

“Adam James,” he said helpfully.

She marched up and jabbed him right between the pecs with her index finger. “Listen up, Adam James, you can’t just…just…blueball me—”

Elle Kennedy's books