Текст книги "Revved"
Автор книги: Sherilee Gray
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 12 страниц)
Chapter Eleven
Reid glanced over at Rusty staring out the window as they drove further out of the city toward his place and wondered what was going on in that head of hers.
The night before, after his complete lack of control, disgracing himself in front of her, he’d reluctantly taken her home. After what she’d told him, he’d needed to get a handle on things. He didn’t care how many men a woman chose to fuck, that was her business, but hearing that Rusty had only been with one guy—once? Shit, he turned into a goddamned caveman. It had been too damn much. Every instinct inside him had screamed to claim her. He’d been in no condition to take things slow, and she deserved better that that. She deserved better than him.
Rusty wasn’t the kind of woman he usually messed with. Shit, he had no business being with her.
She constantly threw him off balance. He barely knew which way was up when she was with him.
He’d seen the innocence in her from the start, but he’d had no idea what it meant. Now he did, and the knowledge only increased his need for her.
Rusty wasn’t used to the games men and women played. She didn’t screw around, and she didn’t give herself to just anyone. Most of all, she didn’t trust easily.
This hadn’t escaped him. Hurting her, using her—could break her.
Yet, here he was, Rusty by his side, heading to his house for dinner. If he had his way, she wouldn’t be leaving until morning. He couldn’t stop this now. Especially after last night.
The way she’d opened up to him. Said she was afraid she might disappoint him. And then, fuck, the way she’d come apart for him, wild and unrestrained. Shit.
He was taking a crazy risk letting her in, but he couldn’t turn away from this, not now. Rusty was special. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but when he was with her, he felt like a different man. And maybe with her—a better man.
For the first time in his life, maybe he could have something good, something sweet and clean and pure.
He felt the weight of her stare and glanced over at her. She looked casual and sexy in jeans and a red T-shirt that draped off one shoulder, showing a good portion of smooth colorful skin. Skin he knew would smell like the vanilla soap she used. “What’re you thinking about, Foxy?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
He grinned. “You sure you wanna know?”
She shook her head and laughed softly. “You never stop, do you?”
“Can’t. Not with you sitting close.” He reached out and rested his hand on her thigh. “You think about what we did in the car last night?”
“I thought about it.” She licked her lower lip.
Jesus.
He gave her thigh a squeeze. “Me too. All damn day. I had to stay sitting behind my desk so I didn’t give the boys the wrong idea.”
She laughed again, this time the way he loved, throwing her head back and letting go. “Oh my God, I would’ve loved to have seen that.”
He gave her another squeeze to get her attention, and she quit laughing. “I want you, Rusty, you know that. But no pressure, okay? We take this as slow as you need, yeah?”
She smiled. “Okay.”
Though he hoped like hell not too slow.
His phone rang beside him, and he glanced down. His mother. Pulling over on the side of the road, he quickly answered it. “Yeah, Ma.”
He could barely hear what she was saying through her sobs, but what he did hear was his father’s name.
Then he heard the banging. The yelling.
Jesus Christ.
“You called the cops?”
“Yes, but I’m scared.”
“I’ll be right there.” He ended the call, swung the car around, and gunned it, heading back the way they’d come.
“What’s going on? Was that your mother? Is she okay?” Rusty’s voice was full of concern.
Why now? Why tonight?
His father always managed to crawl back into his life and fuck it up. Always. Looked as though the old bastard was about to do it again. “Old man’s on a bender, decided to pay her a visit. Looks like you’ll get to meet the folks.”
She remained silent, but he could feel her eyes locked on him. He knew she was taking in the change, could no doubt feel the anger and hatred pouring out of him in waves.
Maybe this was for the best. He couldn’t walk away. He knew that now. And if he didn’t, he’d only drag her down with him, down into the hell that was the reality of his fucked-up life. In some twisted way, he was pleased this was happening tonight. Before he knew what it was like to have her in his bed, how it felt to hold her while she slept, before he lost himself to her completely.
Now he wouldn’t have to push her away. She’d take one look at where he came from, see the toxic crap that ran through his veins, and run in the other direction.
It took ten minutes to reach his mother’s place, a three-bedroom condo on a quiet street. He’d bought it for her a few years ago. He’d wanted to put her in an apartment, one with decent security, but she’d hated the idea. She wanted a garden, and this place had a small patch of grass down the side where she grew vegetables. She loved that damn garden. Spent hours in the thing.
His father was currently stumbling through it, tearing it up, coming around from the back, banging on the windows as he went, screaming his mother’s name on the way to the front door.
They’d arrived before the cops, and he knew his old man well enough to know if he didn’t do something to stop him, he’d smash a window or kick the door clean off its hinges.
He turned to Rusty. “Stay here.”
She stared at him, eyes wide—shock, horror, pity, all there on her beautiful expressive face. “Do you want me to call the police again?”
He shook his head. “They’ll be here soon.”
Climbing out of the car, he approached the man who had made his life a living hell for as far back as he could remember. “What’re you doing here, old man?”
His father swung around, face red with anger and whiskey. As soon as he saw Reid, a sneer twisted his lips. “Nobody asked you to stick your fucking nose into this, boy. She’s my wife, and you have no right keeping her from me.”
Reid stared him down. “She’s not your wife anymore, remember? You need to leave, now.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you little piece of shit. I’ll see my wife whenever the fuck I like.” Then he stumbled up the steps and proceeded to bang the hell out of the front door. “Let me in, Carol. Bitch, you’ll be fucking sorry if you don’t.”
The curtain slid open, and her ashen face peered out, even with the lights out, he could see the tears streaking down her cheeks, the way she shook. He’d seen his mother cry more than he’d ever seen her smile, had heard more of her sobs than he had her laughter, and it was all because of this asshole.
Striding forward, he gripped his father’s shirt and yanked him away from the door. The bastard spun and clocked the side of his jaw. For a drunk he was quick, always had been. He went for a second shot, but Reid ducked out of the way. The momentum had his father stumbling to the side, and Reid managed to twist his arm up his back, kick his legs out from under him, and shove him to the ground.
“I’ll fucking kill you, Carol,” his father screamed. “I’ll make you bleed, bitch.”
Reid slammed his fist into his prone father’s kidney to shut him up. He deserved it, that and a whole lot more. “Shut the hell up.”
His mother had made friends in this neighborhood. This would humiliate her, take her back to a time when she’d had no one, had been too afraid to make friends. Her life had revolved around this bastard, avoiding his fists, hiding the truth from everyone around them.
His father grunted and sucked in a sharp breath. “Y-you always were a mama’s boy, weren’t you, you fucking waste of space.”
Reid ignored the insults, had heard them all before, had heard them since before he was old enough to understand what they meant.
“Son,” his father rasped. “Come on, let me up, son.”
He knew what came next. The pleading, the bargaining. “Just keep your mouth shut till the cops get here.”
“I just need some cash, and then I’ll go away. I won’t come back, you hear me? I’m just down on my luck is all. I just need a little to tide me over. Come on, boy. Help your old man out?”
“I’m gonna tell you the same thing I tell you every time you come groveling. I will never give you a damn cent. Ever. I owe you nothing.”
As always, this sent the bastard off all over again. Reid pinned him down, while he continued to yell insults and threats.
“The police are here.”
He twisted his head at the sound of Rusty’s voice. He hadn’t even seen her get out of the car. “I told you to stay put.”
She flinched at the rough edge to his voice, the way he snapped at her, but his control was shot. He’d dealt with this asshole one too many times, and the last thing he wanted or needed was an audience. An audience with big green eyes filled with goddamn pity.
Two officers came over and cuffed his father, dragging him toward a patrol car. Reid followed to give them his statement, while the second officer went and spoke to his mother. When they finally finished and he’d watched them drive away, he went looking for Rusty.
She was gone.
What the hell did you expect?
He knew bringing her here, witnessing this nightmare, was a bad idea. She’d seen a side of him he’d never wanted her to see, and he’d scared her away.
He’d been an idiot to believe, if only for a minute, that he could have her, because he’d known right from the beginning, he couldn’t. These last couple of days, he’d been kidding himself to think otherwise. Not with the dark shit that twisted inside him. He’d let it surface tonight, had taken his frustration and anger out on her, when she was only trying to help. He shoved a hand in his hair. Jesus, he’d screwed everything up.
Striding across the lawn to his mother’s house, he used his key to get in. He could hear the television going in the living room out back and headed down the short hall. When he rounded the door he came to a dead stop, heart kicking into overdrive at what he saw.
Rusty sat on the couch beside his distraught mother, arm wrapped around her thin shoulders, holding one of her hands and doing her best to comfort a woman she had never met in her life, a complete stranger.
“Would you like a hot drink, Carol? Tea, coffee, maybe a hot chocolate?”
“No, I’m fine, dear.” His mom patted Rusty’s hand.
“You have nothing to worry about now. Reid will make sure of it.”
The surety in Rusty’s voice made his chest ache. “You’re here?” The words formed on their own, escaped before he could stop them.
Her chin lifted, and those exquisite eyes landed on him, unwavering. “Of course. Where else would I be?”
As far away from me as you can get. That’s where she should be.
But she was still here. She hadn’t left. He didn’t know what to say. How to feel about it with so many emotions battling for dominance right then.
His mother came off the couch, came straight to him. He wrapped her in his arms, and she broke down all over again. He held her while she cried, her slight frame shaking under his hands. “It’s okay, Ma. He’s gone. I’ll look at finding you a new place, okay? Somewhere with better security.”
She shook her head. “I’m not letting you do that. Besides, I like it here. I have friends here, my garden. I-I don’t want to move.”
“It’s all right. We’ll sort something out.”
Rusty stood and left the room, giving his mother her privacy while she pulled it together. Again showing him that sweet side of her nature, the side she kept hidden from nearly everyone else. Everyone except those she cared about, those she trusted.
She trusts you.
She didn’t run.
Jesus, he couldn’t think about that now. The way he felt right then, about her—he could easily say something he could never take back. Something that would only make it harder to walk away.
When she returned, she had coffee for all of them. They drank their drinks, mostly in silence, and he kept an eye on his mother the whole time. She’d calmed down, but he wasn’t leaving her, not after that. Seeing the old man always affected her deeply. All the self-confidence she’d worked hard to gain would evaporate. The sparkle in her eyes that took too many years to return would dim.
“Will you be okay for a bit? I’ll take Rusty home, then come back. I’ll stay here tonight.”
His mother shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I called a friend, and she’s coming to keep me company. You go on. I’ll be fine.”
“Ma…”
“I’m fine.” She looked over at Rusty. “It was lovely to meet you, dear. I’m just sorry about the reason behind it. You and Reid will have to come for dinner sometime soon.”
His father had just been hauled away for breaking the conditions of the restraining order against him, and she was talking about dinner plans. She hated anyone knowing what she’d been through, was ashamed of it, and was doing a damn fine job of pretending she was okay. Rusty being as astute as she was, picked up on what his mother was doing and went along with it, like his old man hadn’t just tried to break the front door down.
“I’d like that, Carol, very much.” And she offered her one of those killer smiles.
A few minutes later the friend arrived, and they were being ushered to the front door. They said their good-byes, and his ma gave him another hug, squeezing him tight, and before she released him, whispered, “I like her.”
Yeah, you and me both.
His mom worried about him. Went on about him settling down every other week. The last thing he needed was her getting false hope.
They left, and Rusty walked beside him in silence. Then without a word, she slid her hand in his, silently offering up a piece of herself to him. He latched on, took what she was freely giving. Right then he needed it, needed her. Her touch, her warmth—shit, it made his gut twist in knots.
“Take me home, Reid.” Her voice was soft, softer than he’d ever heard it, and sweet. His stomach clenched at her words. Of course she wanted him to take her home.
All he wanted to do was crush her to him and never let her go.
She was going to end it. She’d been amazing through this, had gone to his mother and comforted her without hesitation. Still, he was selfish. He wanted more from her. Shit, he wanted it all. But this was the way it had to be, how could it not after what she’d just witnessed?
“Yeah, babe, I’ll take you home.” His voice came out rougher than he’d ever heard it. He wanted to add that he understood, maybe throw in an “it was nice while it lasted” or “hey, maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” but his mouth felt too dry, and he couldn’t force the words out.
But then she shook her head, moving in closer, tits and belly pressing into his arm. He looked down at her tucked against him, and she stared up, no more pity, just open and fucking beautiful. “No. I want you to take me home, to your place.”
She still wanted him? A fucking boulder formed in his throat, and he swallowed it down so he could speak. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
Shit. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Chapter Twelve
Reid’s Plymouth rumbled up a short driveway in the exclusive Lincoln Beach area and slid into a four-bay garage off the side of a two-story house. There were two other cars taking up space, a black Escalade and a beautifully restored cherry red Cadillac Fleetwood.
The garage door slid shut behind them, and Reid turned off the engine and opened his door. Rusty did the same, climbing out. The sound of waves crashing and the scent of sea air surrounded her instantly. They were close to the beach, and the awesome view he’d described over the phone.
The sick feeling in her stomach hadn’t subsided—a feeling that had near overwhelmed her when they’d pulled up outside Reid’s mother’s house—no, it kept growing and twisting. She’d misjudged him, couldn’t have been more wrong. She’d assumed he’d come from privilege, that he hadn’t worked his ass off for everything he had. Jesus, what he’d come from, it made all he’d built, all he had achieved that much more amazing.
But then nothing should surprise her where Reid was concerned. The more she got to know him, the more layers he’d revealed, the more she liked him.
He came around and took her hand, leading her to the door. He hadn’t said much since leaving his mother, and she was struggling with what to say. The man was ashamed of what she’d witnessed, that much was obvious. He had no reason to be, of course. Rusty felt no different toward him now than she had before they pulled up and saw his father. She wanted to tell him that, but the way he held his shoulders, the set of his jaw, made it clear talking about what just happened was the last thing he wanted to do.
God, what he must have suffered growing up, what he must have seen and heard.
He led her up a short set of stairs and into a big open kitchen. In fact, when he flicked on the lights, the whole place appeared to be open plan. Big comfy couch and chairs, huge TV mounted on the wall. The kind of furniture you’d expect in a bachelor pad. Windows made up the entire front wall, looking out to the ocean. They weren’t close to the beach, they were on the beach. If she opened the doors and stepped outside, her feet would sink into sand. There was a surfboard propped against the wall by sliding doors, sand scattered on the floor around it.
“You surf?”
“Yeah. You want a drink, something to eat?” He was still in the kitchen, watching her take in his place. She couldn’t read the expression on his face because he’d shut everything down, making sure not to expose a damn thing.
“Is that how you broke your nose?”
“Nope.” His gaze remained locked on hers, telling her to leave it and answering her question all at once.
Her stomach lurched. Oh, God. His father did that to him? Another wave of guilt, of shame, over her initial judgment of him hit hard.
“I picked up fresh pasta from Connie earlier, it’ll only take a few minutes to cook if you’re hungry.”
“I’m good for now.” He opened the fridge and held up a soda. “Thanks.”
Grabbing two, he joined her in the living room, and they sat on the couch. He opened her drink and handed it to her. His fingers brushed hers and a zing of awareness skated up her arm.
His dark hair was no longer in a knot at the back of his head, it’d come loose during the scuffle with his father and had obviously been short at some point because it was different layers.
Lifting his bottle, he took a long pull, tattooed throat working as he polished off half his drink. His lips were shiny when he finished, and she wanted to taste them, badly. She wanted to make him forget everything that had happened earlier, wipe away all the anger, all the pain he thought he was hiding.
He was staring out at the ocean, picking unconsciously at the label on his drink. “I’m sorry you had to see that, with my old man…”
She reached out, rested her hand on the inside of his strong, corded forearm, over the thick-edged star tattoo there, and gave him a squeeze. “You don’t need to apologize to me. It wasn’t you acting that way.” The muscle under her fingers bunched hard as stone. “I can only imagine what it must have been like for you, when you were a kid…”
“I kicked him out.” He sat forward, elbows resting on his knees, bottle dangling from his fingers between his legs. “When I was seventeen, when I was strong enough to throw him out and keep him out. I had a full-time job by then, which meant I could take over most of the expenses.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I think he gets so wasted he forgets.”
Jesus. “I’m sorry…”
Shooting to his feet, he took a step back. He didn’t look at her, continued to stare out at the ocean. “I should take you home.” He placed his drink on the table and crossed his arms over his wide chest, heavy biceps bunching, straining against the sleeves of his shirt. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
He didn’t want her pity, and she got that. In reality they barely knew each other, and she’d just witnessed what she could clearly see shamed him. Placing her drink on the coffee table, she stood and moved closer, close enough she could feel the heat of his body radiating from his skin, and shook her head. “I don’t want to go home.”
A muscle in his jaw jumped, and he dropped his arms to his sides. “This isn’t a good idea, Rusty. Not tonight.”
She rested her hand on his chest and moved in closer. “No?”
His breathing grew choppy, but he kept his arms at his sides. “No,” he rasped.
She skimmed her hand down over his ridged abs. “You don’t want me to stay with you tonight?” His muscles tightened as she trailed over them, back up to his chest. His heart thumped rapidly below her palm, beating in time with her own racing pulse. “If you really don’t want me here, I’ll go. But I don’t think you want that.”
His lips were set in a grim line, eyes locked on hers, dark and intense. The man was wild, utterly beautiful. “Fuck…Rusty.” He lifted his hand and shoved it into his hair.
She had no idea what she was doing, she’d never seduced a guy before, had never wanted to. Once she got him in the sack, it wasn’t like she had much in the way of experience to guide her. She’d probably make a complete fool of herself, but she wanted Reid, and she got the feeling he needed her as well. Tonight more than ever.
He carried a lot on those broad shoulders. Not only his businesses, and the staff that relied on him, but an abusive, alcoholic father and the care and welfare of his mother. Something he’d been doing since he was old enough to. The thought made her heart hurt.
“Do you want me?” she asked. “You said you wanted me naked, underneath you in your bed. Do you still want that?” She held her breath as she waited for him to answer.
A growl escaped his throat. “You know I do.” His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “Tonight, the way I feel, I can’t be gentle. I need it rough. You’re not ready for the kind of rough I’m talking about. Don’t push this. There’s only so much I can take before I fucking break, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
Lust surged through her, hard and fast, and she was surprised her panties didn’t go up in flames. Everything he’d just said hit her in all the right places. No, she’d never had it rough, but she wanted it any way he chose to give it to her. “I know I lack experience, but I’m not a virgin. And I’m not some weak-minded idiot who doesn’t know what she wants. I want you, Reid. However you give it to me. I’m a big girl. I won’t break.”
His breathing grew heavier, nostrils flaring, pupils dilating. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
Going up on her tiptoes, she nipped his lower lip. “Show me.” Her breasts pressed against his chest, and she nuzzled along his jaw, kissing where he’d taken the hit from his father, where a light bruise was forming. “Please, Reid.”
Suddenly his arms were around her in a bone-crushing grip. The scent of his deodorant, clean sweat, and a hint of motor oil invaded her senses, and she couldn’t help but rub up against him, seeking more of his heat, more of everything.
His body shook with the effort to restrain himself, but she didn’t want that, didn’t want him to hold back. She wanted to give him what he needed.
He cursed, then one of his hands thrust into her hair and fisted, tugging her head back. “Stop this. Stop it now, Rusty. Tell me you want to go home, that you don’t want this.”
His eyes were blazing, full of sensual promise. Jesus, he was magnificent, brutal, and on the verge of unleashing all that heat on her.
She should be afraid, should do as he asked. But she’d never been a coward, and despite her born-again-virgin status, she was no wilting flower with tender sensibilities to be protected.
She’d never wanted anything more than the man struggling for control in front of her.
“Reid…” She pressed her hips closer, and a low moan broke past her throat when she felt his massive erection against her belly. Leaning in, she kissed the underside of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. “I want this more than I’ve wanted anything. I’m so wet for you. God, my panties are soaked.”
He snarled like some kind of tormented beast. His arm, still around her, tightened in an unforgiving hold, and the hand in her hair tugged brutally moments before his mouth came down on hers. His tongue invaded, thrusting against hers in a way that said whatever control he’d been hanging onto had snapped. Then she was off the floor, and they were moving.
He tore his mouth away. “Legs around me.”
She did as he said, then they were going upstairs. Reid shoved open the first door they came to and strode in. His mouth was on hers again, then her neck, sucking and nibbling her skin. He put her on her feet and yanked his shirt over his head, exposing the wide, defined expanse of his chest. The ink covering his skin was magnificent. A tribal design wound up one side, over his ribs and pec, thick swirls continuing over his shoulder to join the ink on his neck. The other side was a serpent of some kind that covered his arm and curled over his other shoulder to his back.
Jesus. The man was sex on a stick, and she wanted to lick every inch.
The fine dusting of dark chest hair that narrowed into a very happy trail—bisecting his abs and disappearing below the waistband of his jeans—looked pretty damn good as well.
She licked her lips. Yum.
Then he was on her again, lifting her off the floor to deposit her on the bed. “You ready for this? You ready for what I’m gonna do to you?”
“Yes.” So damn ready she thought she’d explode if he didn’t touch her where she ached for him.
He crawled up over her. “Lift up.” He tugged her shirt over her head, hands immediately going to the fastening of her bra. In seconds it was gone, and her breasts were bared to his hungry gaze. He licked his lips. “Fuck, you have incredible tits. Just like I knew you would.” His hands cupped her flesh, testing their weight. “I’m gonna fuck these spectacular tits sometime soon, mark them, come all over them.”
His voice was rough, low, nothing but gravel, and she felt it like a caress between her thighs. She sucked in a breath. She was no prude, but she hadn’t exactly been in many situations where a man could speak to her that way, and damn, it turned her on, had her squirming beneath him. “Reid, please.”
“You like that idea, Foxy? Like the idea of watching me slide my cock between your tits, blowing all over this smooth, golden skin?” He trailed rough fingers across her collarbone.
She couldn’t speak, could only nod.
He chuckled, dark and low, as he toyed with a nipple, pinching and tugging gently. “Did you play with them, when you got yourself off thinking about me?”
She stared up at him, arching into his hand, wanting more, overwhelmed by him, his words. The effect he had over her body was nothing she’d experienced before, the control he took, control that she was happy to give. He tugged a little harder, and she bit her lip.
“Answer me,” he said in a husky whisper.
The sound of his needy voice sent another rush of liquid heat between her thighs. “Yes.”
He licked his lips. “I like that, baby.”
He bent his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth, tormenting it with his tongue and teeth, while his hands squeezed and massaged. His whiskers abraded her skin, the crisp hairs on his chest tickling her belly. One of his hands held her breast in a tight grip, sucking and teasing, while the other moved down over her stomach and got to work on her jeans.
God, she was on fire.
When he got them undone, he gave her one last deep suck and flick of his tongue, then sat back and shucked her pants down her legs. His hands moved up to the sides of her panties, and he tugged them off as well, throwing them to the floor. When he turned back, he took her in, gaze lingering over her breasts, her belly, between her thighs. And that’s where it stayed.
“Christ, you have a body made for sin. A body made to be fucked hard.” He reached down and cupped the massive bulge at the front of his jeans. “Spread, Foxy. Show me that sweet spot.”
She was trembling now, with nerves, with want. This was a side to Reid she had never seen. He was sexually aggressive, lost to the lust, to the need his body cried for. She loved it, loved that she had that effect on him. She didn’t want him to treat her like a scared virgin, like she might break any second. Drawing her knees up, she let them fall open, giving him what he wanted.
He hissed, then his hands moved to her inner thighs, holding her open. “I’m gonna eat you now, taste you, and after I make you come, I’m gonna fuck you.”
With that warning—or promise, she wasn’t sure what he was going for—his head disappeared between her thighs, and he did exactly what he said he would.
He worked his tongue between her slit, tasting her, sliding the tip to her opening, circling, teasing, making her muscles clench in anticipation. He repeated the action, torturing her some more before he finally pushed in. She cried out, and his hands gripped her ass tight, tight enough she knew she’d have bruises in the morning.
It felt exquisite.
Her hand went to the back of his head, sliding through his hair, holding him there as he worked her expertly.
He gave her several long licks, and she squirmed against the mattress. She was impossibly wet and swollen and aching, and all she could do was thrash about beneath him, begging and moaning for him to make her come. Then on the next deep lick, he stopped and focused that clever tongue on her clit, alternating between tormenting licks and strong sucks of her needy flesh. Her body clenched, and a rush of liquid slid down between her ass cheeks. He growled his approval, then gave her clit one last hard suck and she screamed, coming apart against his mouth.
She lay there for several minutes, trying to get her body under some sort of control. Reid kissed, then nipped her inner thigh and climbed off the bed. When she opened her eyes a few seconds later, he was there beside her, jeans and underwear gone.
She drank in the sight of him in all his naked deliciousness, gaze dropping to his big, hard cock jutting from his body, veins bulging down the shaft. He was staring down at her, eyes glittering dangerously, as he rolled on a condom.
“You ready?” he asked.
She lay there, gaze fixed on that magnificent cock, her muscles still fluttering with the aftershocks of his remarkable oral skills, and struggled to draw breath.
