“I’ll take you home.” I pull her up from her seat and wait while she gives everyone hugs good night.
The douchebag-dicks at a nearby table rake their hungry eyes over her tight little body. I glare in their direction, quickly realizing that they’re not the only ones checking her out. Three other dudes standing at the bar are doing the same. It’s like she’s north, and no matter where she moves their needle-dick-compasses follow. Fuck.
Ready to get her the hell out of here, I move to grab her hand. She’s hugging Caleb, and I bite back a growl when I catch Mason checking out her ass. He smiles at me before he wipes the grin from his face. Yeah, bitch. Not yours.
A voice deep inside my head yells she’s not mine either.
That shit’s changing. Tonight.
Impatiently, I grab her hand to pull her out of the club and into the parking lot.
“Blake.” In her high heels, she struggles to keep my quickened pace. “Slow down.”
I can’t. There’s something I need to do. And nothing outside of a brick wall thrown between us is going to stop me. Hell, not even that.
When my car’s a few yards away, I hit unlock on my fob.
The few steps seem like miles as urgency pushes me forward. At the car, I move us both to the driver’s side.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
I swing the door open, hoping it will give us a sliver of privacy, and turn her to me. Moving in, I press her back against the driver’s seat and shove my hands into her loose, silken hair.
“Ask me.” My growled demand makes her jump.
“Blake, I don’t under—”
I touch my forehead to hers and force myself under control. “Torture. Being so close. Smelling you all over with the taste of your kiss still on my tongue. Standing by while motherfuckers check you out. Knowing that they’re dreaming about what I know to be better than anything their wildest fantasies could come up with. Fuck, it’s killin’ me.”
Her eyelids flutter, and her breathing’s shallow. “Oh my God.”
“Mouse, I won’t do it unless you ask. The shit from your past rides you hard. I see that. But fuck, I’m dying here.” I fist my hands in her hair and tilt her head back. My lips hover over hers so that I’m drinking in her heated breath. “Tell me it’s okay.”
“Yes.” Her mouth is so close, her lips brush against mine at her spoken word.
“Yes what?” I slide my parted lips along hers. “What do you want?”
“Please, Blake. Kiss me.”
Sixteen
Blake
Thank God. I cover her mouth with mine. She moans against my tongue. A rumble of satisfaction rips from my throat. I suck her bottom lip, and the sweet taste floods my senses. Her wet mouth, combined with the velvety caress of her tongue, grips my gut.
My abdominal muscles flex, and I press her deeper into the driver’s seat. She grips my shirt at my hips, holding on as I curve my body over hers. Everything about her seems small and delicate, but her kiss is fevered as she matches every stroke. She arches her back, pushing her breasts up so that they rub against my ribs. An intense yearning boils beneath my skin. To touch, taste, and experience every inch of her body, inside and out.
I slide my hand from her hair to her neck, all the while plundering her delicious mouth. My palm itches to run along her peaked nipple. Moving my hand lower, I stop just above the swell of her breast, unwilling to go a step farther without her spoken permission. She squirms beneath me, her body begging for what I’m holding back. Fucking perfect.
I rein in my frenzy and summon the strength to break the kiss. Her eyes seem almost black in the dark as they question mine. Impatient, I nip at her upper lip. “Ask.”
She blinks, her gaze darting to where my fingertips rest against the slope of her collarbone. “Touch me.” Her simple request dissolves with a moan.
I smile against her lips. “Good girl.”
My mouth devours hers in a rewarding kiss. She hooks the waistband of my boxers, and her small fingers feel like fire as they run against my skin. The tempting fragrance of vanilla fills my nose and teases my hunger for more.
I pull back a fraction to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes closed. As much as I want to shove my hands—shit, my head—up her shirt, I need to know that she’s okay. If things move too fast, I could lose her. “Look at me.”
Molten lust colors her deep brown gaze.
The heel of my hand runs along the swell of her breast. She sucks in a quick breath, but I only see longing in her eyes. I move farther down and feel the firm tip of her nipple against my palm. The thin layers of fabric between us do nothing to hide the heat of her aroused flesh. My abs flex with the uncontrollable need to bury myself inside her. It’s never been this hard to hold back, and never this important that I do.
I study the depths of her eyes, hidden behind lust-heavy lids. My thumb circles gentle passes across her nipple, and she drops them closed.
“Open,” I whisper.