“Your mouth just doesn’t know when to stop. The shit that you say makes me want to strangle you,” his voice was low and rough as he cupped my breasts. His thumbs rubbing my aching nipples.
Garrett leaned down so that his lips brushed against mine again. Our breath was coming in short, erratic bursts. “I don’t particularly like you, Riley. But right now I want to fuck you,” he growled. The soft lover from moments before was gone and in his place was a ferocity that unfurled a wet heat deep in my belly.
My fingers curled into his hair and I pulled with enough force to make him wince. “You’re an asshole,” I whispered, not trusting my voice at the moment. Garrett emitted a low groan as I yanked on his hair again. I bit his bottom lip, pulling it into my mouth.
“And I want you to fuck me. I want to remember it this time,” I said raggedly. Garrett gripped the back of my head, holding me in place as his mouth slammed down on mine. Any pretense at gentleness was lost in the unbridled fury of our need. I hated him. I told myself this over and over as our mouths assaulted each other, bruising and tearing as we ate each other alive.
He made me want to rip my hair out. But goddamn it, I wanted to taste every single inch of him. And I knew by the frantic way he touched me that he felt the same way.
There was no more talking. No more excuses to stop. There was only Garrett and me and the sounds of flesh pressing together and noisy, desperate breathing. In a matter of seconds, I had Garrett’s shirt joining mine on the floor, followed by his jeans. Our mouths were fused together and our hands sought to explore every part of each other.
Garrett palmed my butt cheeks and hoisted me up so that I had to wrap my legs around his waist. The barrier of his thin boxer briefs was all that separated two very important parts of our anatomy. I wiggled, just slightly and he groaned low and deep in the back of his throat.
I wiggled my hips again, grinning against his mouth, feeling powerful in the way I affected him. Damien had never made me feel like I was the one with all the power. Our lovemaking was always calm and controlled and done with the intent of one, never both, of us getting off.
I had always thought it beautiful, the way it was supposed to be. But right now, with Garrett fitted between my legs, his mouth sucking, biting, loving every bit of skin he could reach, I knew the real beauty was in the surrender. Both of us giving up control to the other. It was a perfect expression of trust. Woah, when had I decided to trust Garrett? And when had he laid his at my feet?
Garrett sat down on my bed and I straddled his lap, rocking into him, wanting to appease the ache that threatened to blow me a part. I pulled my mouth away from his swollen lips and I threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling it back away from his face. I gazed down at his heavy lidded eyes blurred this time by lust rather than drugs. The straight length of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw, the tiny freckle under his left ear. Just a few months ago I would have told you that Garrett Bellows may be attractive in his own way but most definitely not my type.
But now…well…now was another story.
I was feeling entirely too mushy. I wasn’t looking for some sort of Titanic moment here. I was no fucking Rose and Garrett was most certainly not my Jack Dawson!
I had been excited for the change. Ready to do something reckless, something dangerous. But this was bordering on too much. And when things got hard, it was in my nature to shut them down. Decisively.
So I leaned down and bit his lip a bit more aggressively than Garrett was expecting.
“Ouch!” he yelped, pulling back with a jerk, his finger going to his mouth. Shit, I had drawn blood. That’s right! I’m one mean ass chick!
“What the hell, Riley?” he asked in genuine bewilderment.
“If I wanted soft and gentle, I sure as hell wouldn’t have asked you to come home with me,” I said harshly. I couldn’t get a handle on the conflicting emotions bubbling just under the surface. So what do I do? I pulled out the bitch card. When in doubt resort to what you’re good at.