“Then, baby, let’s blast off.”
And when she banged down on him, his shaft automatically thrust inside her. She could actually hear him grit his teeth, moan some unintelligible words, curse under his breath and growl deep in his throat, while thrusting in and out of her. And she simultaneously rode him with flawless precision and perfect timing. She held tight to the back of the chair, which gave his mouth access to her breasts, and all she could do was throw her head back and moan.
He continued thrusting inside her over and over again. She heard the chair squeaking, and at one time thought they might fall out of it and tumble to the floor, but it held firm...at least almost until the end. A leg was the first to go, but Dalton still didn’t stop; he just shifted his angle to put pressure on the remaining three chair legs.
And that was when she screamed, which was at the same time he threw back his head and shouted her name. He jumped up. Holding tight to her hips that were wrapped around him just seconds before the chair went crashing to the floor. He still didn’t stop. Pressing her against the table, his thick pulsating shaft continued to beat down, pound into her in long, deep and feverish strokes.
Her entire body shivered; her mind went blank except for the feelings tearing through her. How could her self-control compete with this? And when her body joined his in yet another spasm, she knew she was in serious trouble. She hadn’t counted on this. Hadn’t counted on Dalton Granger being the one man she couldn’t seem to get enough of. His yin to her yang...at least where sex was concerned.
Moments later, when they were able to breathe again, he pulled her into his arms and licked the side of her face before whispering, “Let’s take this to the sofa.”
Too weak to resist, and doubting she would have even if she could, she wrapped her arms around his neck when he lifted her. They paused momentarily to grab his pants off the back of one of the chairs. “I need more condoms.”
And as she looked at the broken chair on her kitchen floor, she knew what she needed was another chair. A sturdier one.
*
“Are you trying to kill me?”
Jules’s lips lifted in a smile. “Is that the doer whining?” she asked, easing her body off Dalton’s.
He frowned as he pulled up into a sitting position on her sofa. “Hell, I’m not whining, just asking a question.”
“One I don’t intend to answer. I believe you’re the one who showed up tonight at my place for a booty call. At least my sofa stood the test. You owe me a new kitchen chair, by the way.”
Dalton chuckled. “You’ll get it. It was worth breaking.” He glanced around at all the papers spread on the coffee table. Papers he had shoved out of the way when he’d taken her on the sofa. That was before she began taking him. Riding him senseless into a new day. He leaned forward to straighten up the papers, and his hands froze when he saw what the documents were about. “You’ve got information on Marshall Imerson?” he asked, glancing over at her.
She nodded and adjusted her position on her sofa, wondering how many couples sat naked while talking on a sofa like it was a normal thing. But she didn’t feel like going to the kitchen for clothes. Besides, they hadn’t made it to her bedroom yet.
“Yes, and it wasn’t easy. The records were sealed.”
Dalton’s brow lifted. “Sealed?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Good question. I believe it’s because of the shitty way the initial police report was handled. There were so many red flags that, as a cop, I would have pursued. However, the police officer on the scene didn’t.”