Return of the Bad Boy (Second Chance #4)

For one beat, then two, they shared the same air.

“Ash.” Her voice shook. Her body quaked. “I can’t stop.” Couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop wanting him.

“God, I missed you.” His deep brown eyes assaulted her.

The last time he’d said that, she’d told him she hated him. Nothing could have been further from the truth, and for some reason right now seemed to be the moment to tell him. “I never hated you.”

“I know.”

Winding her fingers into the back of his hair, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him, giving herself to him anew. He pushed his hard-on against her center and his tongue into her mouth and she wished he’d taken the time to lose the shorts before he put her against the wall.

She reached for the button on his shorts and fumbled with the zipper. He continued kissing her, launching his tongue into her mouth and out again as his calloused fingertips abraded her nipples and made her wet and so hot, she felt as if she’d fused to the tiled wall.

“Take these off,” she said the second he let her breathe.

He lowered her feet to the floor and both of them wrestled with his shorts and boxer briefs until they hit the floor. Over his hip ran the script lyrics from “Unchained.” Oh, she loved that tattoo.

Unchained. Finally free. Finally you. Finally me.

She ran her fingertips along the words, inching closer to his bobbing cock. That part of his anatomy held a lot of promise, and many good memories. She grasped the shaft and squeezed him lightly.

He palmed her breasts and put his mouth on hers again. And she did her level best to keep her eyes closed and her mind focused on the sensations of her body. The feel of warmth low in her belly, wet heat accosting the most private, secret part of her.

He kissed his way down, pausing for each breast and then licking a circle around her belly button. Her hands rested in his hair as he dropped to his knees. For a second, he stopped and rested his stubbled chin on her hip bone. She opened her eyes to find him looking up at her, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, hair sticking up all over the place.

“I’ve dreamed of your taste.” Expertly, he thumbed her clit. Her hips swiveled. His eyes left hers to focus on where he was touching her. He slicked his tongue along her center and her eyelids fell closed. She bit back the sharp moan clogging her throat.

“My memory is for shit,” he mumbled, his lips tickling her. “You taste better than I remember.” He repeated the motion, then his mouth left her and he took her hands in his. He was almost chuckling when he said, “Come on. Not going to make you stand up for this.”

She let him pull her to the floor, where he laid her on top of a white rug next to the shower.

“What if someone wants in?” she asked, eyeing the door behind him.

“There’s more than one bathroom in this house, Sarge.” He lowered himself between her legs, tossing her knees onto his shoulders.

“Lie back,” he instructed. When she did, he teased the insides of her thighs with soft kisses until her hips thrust.

“Oh, man.” He tongued her inner thigh, agonizingly close to where she wanted him. “You are fun to tease.”

“Please,” she begged.

To her absolute delight, he gave in and licked her—one long, hot lick that made her back bow and her hands fist the rug.

“But more fun to drive crazy,” he amended.

With his tongue against her, she blocked the thoughts about the party on the deck and the people who’d watched them walk hand in hand inside. Her hips pumped in time with Asher’s ministrations, and all she could think about was how great it felt to have him there and how, for the first time in too long, her bones were melting. The man was a master with his mouth, and when he reached those talented fingers for her nipples, her orgasm peaked.

At his insistent lapping, she came, pulsing and writhing against his face, her voice lost. Asher slowed his pace, letting her ease from the massive release. Then he flicked his tongue against her and she let out a sharp breath, pushing her hands against his head.

“Fuck me,” she breathed.

He didn’t hesitate.

He moved to the drawer by the sink and pulled out a strip of condoms, tearing one packet from the row with his teeth. He rolled it on while Gloria held out her arms and made a “come here” motion with her hands.

On the floor with her again, he lifted one of her legs and pivoted his hips, pushing deep inside her and shoving her and the rug across the floor.

“Yes.” This was what it was like to be with Asher. Intense and unbelievably perfect. He filled her, consumed her, and didn’t let up for one second.

With a grunt, he thrust forward, his hair falling over his forehead as he smiled down at her. He grunted again, this time paired with scrunching his nose and growling low in his throat.

Gloria couldn’t help it—she smiled. “Animal,” she said with a soft laugh.

“You make me an animal, sweetheart.” He bared his teeth.

She kissed the underside of his chin. “Why do you feel so good?”

“Nine-inch cock,” he answered immediately.

Jessica Lemmon's books