27
Hannah
I have no idea what was said during the car ride to Garrett’s townhouse. I’m sure we talked. I’m sure I saw the scenery whizzing past the window. I’m sure I even breathed oxygen in and out of my lungs like a normal person. I just don’t remember any of those things.
The second we stumble into his bedroom, I loop my hands around his neck and kiss him. Forget baby steps. I want him too bad to go slow, and my hands fumble for his belt buckle before his tongue even enters my mouth.
His husky laughter tickles my lips, and then strong hands cover mine to stop me from undoing his belt. “As much as I appreciate the enthusiasm, I’m gonna have to slow you down, Wellsy.”
“But I don’t want to go slow,” I protest.
“Tough cookies.”
“Tough cookies? What are you, my grandmother?”
“Does she say tough cookies?”
“Well, no,” I confess. “Nana swears like a sailor, actually. Last Christmas she dropped a motherfucker bomb at the dinner table, and my dad nearly choked on his turkey.”
Garrett barks out a laugh. “I think I like Nana.”
“She’s very sweet.”
“Uh-huh. Sounds like it.” He tilts his head. “Now can we stop talking about your grandmother, Ms. Mood Killer?”
“You killed it first,” I point out.
“Naah, I just changed up the pace.” His gray eyes go molten hot. “Now get on the bed so I can make you come.”
Oh. My. God.
I scramble onto the mattress so fast it brings another laugh to Garrett’s lips, but I don’t care how eager I look. The nerves I felt last night aren’t wreaking havoc on my stomach today, because my whole body is trembling with need. In the back of my mind, it does occur to me that maybe it won’t happen again, at least not from Garrett’s touch, but oh man, I’m dying to find out.
He settles beside me and thrusts his hand in my hair as he kisses me. I’ve never been with a guy who’s this rough with me. Devon treated me like I might shatter, but Garrett doesn’t. I’m not a fragile piece of china to him. I’m just…me. I love how excited he gets, the way he pulls my hair if my head isn’t exactly where he wants it to be, or how he bites my lip when I try to tease him by depriving him of my tongue.
I sit up only so he can whip my shirt off, and then he uses one hand to unsnap my bra with the kind of Garrett dexterity I’ve come to expect. The second he takes off his own shirt, I press my lips to his chest. I didn’t get to touch him yesterday, and I’m starving to know what he feels like, what he tastes like. His flesh is warm beneath my lips, and when my tongue darts tentatively over one flat nipple, a husky groan escapes his lips. Before I can blink, I’m on my back and we’re kissing again.
Garrett cups my breast, toying with my nipple between his fingers. My eyelids flutter closed and in this moment, I don’t care if he’s looking at me. I only care about how good he’s making me feel.
“Your skin feels like silk,” he murmurs.
“Did you steal that line from a Hallmark card?” I crack.
“Nope, just stating a fact.” His fingers skim the undersides of my breasts. “You’re soft and smooth and perfect.” He lifts his head to give me a wry look. “My calluses are probably scratching the shit out of you, huh?”
They are, but it’s the kind of erotic scraping that makes my heart pound. “If you stop touching me, I’ll punch you.”
“Naah, you’ll just break your hand if you do that. And I happen to like your hands.” With a wicked smile, he takes my right hand and places it directly over his crotch.
The hard bulge beneath my palm is so tempting I can’t help but stroke it. Garrett’s features stretch tight. A second later, he quickly removes my hand. “Oh hell. Bad idea. I’m not ready for this to end yet.”
I snort. “Aw, is someone quick on the trigger?”
“Shut it, woman. I can go all night long.”
“Uh-huh. Sure you can—”
He cuts me off with a blistering hot kiss that ends with me gasping for air. Then a naughty gleam lights his eyes again, and he bends his head to kiss my nipple.
A shockwave of pleasure blasts from my breast to my core. When Garrett’s tongue darts out and swirls around the distended bud, I all but float away. My breasts have always been sensitive, and right now, they’re a bundle of tight, crackling nerve endings. When he sucks my nipple deep in his mouth, I see stars. He shifts to my other breast, giving it the same thorough attention, the same lazy kisses and teasing licks.
Then he begins kissing his way south.
Despite the excitement surging through my blood, I experience a wave of anxiety. I can’t help but remember all the times Devon did this exact same thing, kissing his way down my body. Or how much time he spent between my legs when intercourse didn’t seem to do it for me.
But thinking about my ex right now is not what I ought to be doing, so I banish all thoughts of Devon from my mind.
Garrett’s breath tickles my belly button as his tongue grazes my belly. I can feel his fingers trembling as he undoes the button of my jeans. I like knowing that he might be nervous, or in the very least, that he’s as excited as I am. He always comes off as so cool and self-assured, but right now, right here, he looks like he’s struggling to hold on to the last thread of his control.
“Is this okay?” he whispers, sliding my jeans and panties down my hips. Then his breath hitches, and I feel a tad self-conscious as his hungry gaze fixes between my legs.
I inhale slowly and say, “Yes.”
The first brush of his tongue against my folds is like an electric current shooting up my spine. I moan so loudly that his head lifts abruptly.
“Tuck’s home,” he warns, humor dancing in his eyes. “So I suggest we use our indoor voices.”
I have to bite my lip to stop from making noise, because what he’s doing to me…holy mother of pearl. So. Good. He circles my clit with his tongue, then licks it in soft, slow strokes that drive me absolutely wild with desire.
I suddenly remember how Allie confessed that she had to “train” Sean to do this because he used to go all motorboat on her clit from the word go. But Garrett needs no training. He allows my pleasure to build, going slow and making me crazy, making me beg.
“Please,” I whimper when the tempo once again becomes excruciatingly leisurely. “More.”
He raises his head, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never glimpsed anything sexier than the sight of his glossy lips and burning gray eyes. “Do you think you can come like this?”
I surprise myself by nodding. I don’t think I’m lying, though. I’m wound up so tight I’m like a cartoon bomb about to detonate.
With a low growl of approval, he leans down and wraps his lips around my clit. He sucks hard, simultaneously pushing one finger inside me, and I go off like a rocket launcher.
The orgasm is a thousand times more intense than the orgasms I’ve given myself, maybe because my body knows I wasn’t the one who made it happen. Garrett did this. Garrett turned my limbs to jelly and sent this wave of sweet, pulsing satisfaction racing through me.
When the incredible sensations finally abate, they leave behind a warm rush of peace and a strangely bittersweet feeling. What happens next is something I’ve only seen happen in movies and it embarrasses the crap out of me.
I start to cry.
In a heartbeat, Garrett climbs up my body and searches my face in concern. “What’s wrong?” His expression goes stricken. “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head and blink through the onslaught of tears. “I’m…crying…because…” I breathe deeply. “Because I’m happy.”
His features relax, and now he looks like he’s trying not to laugh. His jaw twitches as he meets my eyes. “Say it,” he orders.
“Say what?” I use the corner of his blanket to wipe the moisture staining my cheeks.
“Say Garrett Graham, you are a sex god. You have achieved what no other man ever has. You—”
I punch him in the shoulder. “Oh my God, you’re such a jerk. I will never, ever say those words.”
“Sure you will.” He smirks at me. “Once I’m through with you, you’ll be shouting those words out from the rooftops.”
“You know what I think?”
“Women aren’t supposed to think, Wellsy. That’s why your brains are smaller. Science proves it.”
I slug him again, and a howl of laughter flies out of his mouth. “Jeez. I’m kidding. You know I don’t actually believe that. I worship at the shrine of womanhood.” He dons a solemn face. “Okay, tell me what you think.”
“I think it’s time I shut you up.”
He snickers. “Yeah? How do you plan on—” He hisses when I cup his package and give it a hearty squeeze. “You’re evil.”
“And you’re a cocky jerk, so I guess we both just have to deal.”
“Aw, thanks for noticing how cocky I am.” He smiles innocently, but there’s nothing innocent about the way he thrusts his erection into my hand.
Suddenly I don’t feel like teasing him anymore. I just want to see him come apart. I haven’t stopped thinking about the way he looked last night when he…
My sex clenches at the memory.
I tackle his belt buckle, and this time, he lets me undo it. In fact, he falls onto his back and lets me do whatever the heck I want.
I undress him as if I’m unwrapping a shiny gift, and once I have him naked, I take a moment to admire my prize. His body is long and sleek, boasting a golden skin tone instead of the pasty white you see on so many of the guys at Briar. I run my fingers over his rock-hard abs, smiling when his muscles quiver beneath my touch. Then I trace the tattoo on his left arm and ask, “Why flames?”