Just the tip.
“Well now you’ve got me here, what did you plan on doing with me?”
Talk about a loaded question.
She threaded her fingers through the belt loops of my jeans and pulled me toward her, falling back onto my bed and taking me with her. I braced my hands on either side of her head so I wouldn’t crush her and looked down at her. She pulled me closer, spreading her legs, so I fell in between them and pressed my erection against her.
“You want me,” she declared with a smile.
“Yeah, I do,” I said huskily. She had no fucking idea how much.
Just the tip.
I leaned down, pressing my lips to the tip of her nose, the right corner of her mouth then the left corner before slowly pulling my head back to gage her reaction.
Still drunk, but there was no mistaking that gleam in her eyes.
I dipped my head and covered her mouth with mine. Her lips were soft and wet as they parted for me, inviting me in to take what I wanted. I heard the groan rumble from low in my belly as I parted my lips and slid my tongue into her mouth. She tasted like cinnamon and mint, like Heaven and Hell, because there was no way I wasn’t going up in flames for this one. No fucking way.
Her teeth grazed my lip as she tried to seize control. Feisty. I loved it. My lips latched onto hers and my tongue took its time stroking hers, feeding off her taste. I felt my dick strain against the denim and reached down to unbutton my jeans to give myself a little relief.
I pulled away from her mouth, drawing down my zipper as I watched her sit up and take a deep breath.
She reached for me as I went to pull my pants down and release my aching cock.
“You want it bad, don’t you, Kitten?” I growled, kicking off my boots.
“Riggs,” she whimpered.
Just the tip, I reminded myself, dragging my jeans down my legs and kicking them off as my cock sprang free.
Christ, she was hot.
I wrapped my hand around my cock giving it a stroke. I went to remove my shirt and she lurched forward startling me.
“I’m going to be…” She never finished her sentence as she threw up.
All over me.
All over my beautiful cock.
So much for “just the tip.”
Chapter Seven
I think I’m dead or maybe I’m in a coma. I’m most definitely not a functioning human right now. I wish I would’ve stayed in nursing school, at least I’d be able to diagnose myself. It’s a scary thought, fighting with everything you have to open your eyes, not knowing why it’s a struggle in the first place.
Then I remembered.
Alcohol. Lots of it.
Mia leaving me.
Texting Riggs.
Riggs showing up at the Salty Dog.
Riggs taking me back to his clubhouse.
Riggs kissing me.
And that’s it, my last memory. It’s a good memory too. He’s a pretty awesome kisser.
Focus, Lauren.
I groaned as my eyes finally fluttered open. My head was killing me and I had a serious case of dry mouth. I tried to lift myself, to sit upright, but the room spun. Not really feeling like playing “Dorothy,” I left my ruby slippers at home, I dropped my head back onto the pillow.
Something stirred beside me but before I could turn to see the critter moving, a hand wrapped around my midsection, pulling me across the bed. My eyes widened as I turned and saw Riggs beside me. He mumbled something into his pillow and I held my breath, waiting for him to open his eyes and release me but that never happened. Instead, he snored, and draped his thick leg over mine. His thick, naked leg, might I add. I pinched the edge of the sheet, about to lift it and peek under it to assess the damage when I felt something long and hard poke my thigh.
Oh, hello, little Riggs.
Although, little was the wrong word to describe the erection digging into me. I suppressed the urge to reach under the sheet and wrap my hand around him to size him up.
I closed my eyes and prayed for the coma to take me again. Yeah, no such luck.
Finally, finding the nerve I lifted the sheet and saw I was wearing a t-shirt that read “I’d Rather Be Naked.” How fitting.
At least I had my underwear on.
“Go back to sleep,” he mumbled, startling me and I snapped my head in his direction.
“You’re up?” I asked, my voice squeaking like a chipmunk.
“No,” he replied with his eyes closed.
“Riggs, you need to move. I have to get up. I have to get out of here.” I rambled nervously.
“No, not moving,” he grunted stubbornly, as his hands traveled under the hem of the t-shirt.
“Oh God,” I groaned.
“You said that a lot last night,” he murmured, as fingers grazed my belly.
My eyes widened and my cheeks felt like they were on fire.