Return of the Bad Boy (Second Chance #4)

Hell to the yes.

This was what kissing someone—what getting someone half naked—was all about. Only he wasn’t mentally high-fiving himself as much as he was trying to keep from tearing off her panties and his boxers and plunging into her right in the middle of the lake.

Holding her body against his, he moved his hand south and slipped his fingers into her lace underwear. She pulled her mouth away from his, he guessed to suggest they slow down, or go inside, or stop altogether…but she surprised him by reaching beneath the water, holding on to his shoulder while she kicked, and bringing her panties out in one hand seconds later.

Asher’s jaw dropped.

She squeezed the water out of her panties and tossed them next to her bra. Then her arms went back around his neck and she said, “Touch me.”

Hot damn. It’s like he was dreaming. “Cooperative” wasn’t exactly a word he’d have used to describe the Gloria of late. Though, to be fair, she had come with him on the boat today. But he never could’ve imagined she’d come back to his house hours later and be naked against him, begging for his touch.

She didn’t have to beg.

He moved his fingers to her *, waxed bare, save for a thin strip of hair at the seam. He traced over that strip and she bit her bottom lip, her eyes growing darker as her eyelids fell to half-mast. When he slipped his fingers into her folds, those eyes closed completely, her head falling back.

“That’s it, Sarge. I have you.” With her back arched, he had ample access to her breasts, so he leaned his head down and licked and suckled a nipple as he quickened his pace below the water. Water wasn’t known for its lubrication, but she provided plenty, and he worked her into a slick, hot, shuddering mess in only a few seconds. He swirled his tongue over one nipple, then moved to the next hardened peak, biting her lightly and then kissing his way up her neck. When he reached the spot behind her ear, he licked and sucked there, too. A warm surge came over his fingers below and he thumbed her clit with renewed focus.

“Asher, yes,” she breathed, and the sound of his name in her sweet voice was his ultimate reward. He plunged two fingers inside her, working her clit with his thumb as he bit down on her earlobe. Before she could moan his name again, she came, clamping his fingers with her inner muscles, clawing at his back, and pulling his hair.

His mouth left her neck to smile down at the sight of Gloria in his arms, cheeks pink, eyes closed, mouth open, breasts bare. He loved her naked. Getting to see the way her small shoulders gave way to an ample rack, then swept in at her flat stomach. And beneath the water were two thick, incredible thighs and a * he’d love to thrust into over and over and over and over again.

He kissed her mouth gently, nibbled along the jaw, but when he got to her ear, she tilted her head to stop his assault.

“I resent how good you are at that,” she said.

“Nah, you don’t. You enjoy how good I am at that.”

Her eyes opened lazily.

“Written all over your face, Sarge.” He smiled. “Let’s go in.”

She reacted like he’d asked her to take up stripping in her spare time. She covered her breasts with one arm, hiding them, which was comical since he’d just had them in his mouth. What she said, though, wasn’t comical at all.

“I can’t. I mean, I’m not going in.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I come in, we’ll have sex.” Her brow furrowed.

“Promise?” He lowered his lips for a quick kiss.

“Then what?” She palmed his face, stopping his lips before they covered hers again.

“I’ll make you come two or three more times and then I’ll come and then we’ll sleep,” he answered. And really, how hard was that to figure out? Where was the argument? He couldn’t see one.

“And in the morning?” she prompted. “And the day after that? And the one following that one?”

He pretended to think about what she said. “I think we can negotiate number of orgasms, but I’m good with a one-a-day minimum.”

Both hands on his chest, she shoved at him again but he held her tight. When her eyebrows met over her nose, he spoke before she could.

“You want to leave here and go home and continue dating Brice? You want to kiss him and fuck him instead of me? Or do you just want to make me think you are so I get jealous of what he’s getting instead of me?”

“Oh, you think this is a contest?” She went from merely argumentative to good and pissed in a heartbeat. A charge shot through him, energizing him. If she was pissed, she was passionate, and he’d take that over her faux politeness any damn day of the week.

“I think you’re trying to make it one,” he said, baiting her.

“You left me alone with Jordan on Endless Avenue.”

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