Текст книги "The Gideon Affair"
Автор книги: Suzanne Halliday
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Breaking out into the happy dance almost happened right there on the beach because Paige’s accidental admission to a bit of self-pleasuring was exactly what his dick wanted to hear.
Dick … you’re being a dick. Down, Dick, down.
Almost worked too until the naughty Jane to his single-minded Dick tried to act as if she were above such things.
Ha!
Her unplanned confession told him two crucial things. One—that the lady slept alone, and two—that she wasn’t adverse to …
STOP! his mind shouted. Stop that thought right fucking now.
All of a sudden, she turned and shoved him with both hands. Hard. Man, she had some power behind the motion.
“Don’t make fun of me.”
Aww, her embarrassed pout was all sorts of cute.
“Sorry. My bad.”
He was going to let her have this one. Taking it any further was only going to expose things he should leave alone.
She fished a small shell from the sand and tossed it toward the surf before drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms loosely around them.
“I’m putting the sunglasses back on if you don’t start talking.”
Snorting amusement, he saluted with a mocking grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Edward Gideon Banning,” she croaked, “unless you immediately cut to the chase, I’m getting your mother on the phone to tell her you’re disgracing the Shaw name.”
Aargh. A harmless taunt, one she frequently used at the insistence of his mom, but today it hit a bit too close to home.
When he, Paige, and Mickey had brainstormed for a professional name for Edward, his middle name won out with no problem, but finding a memorable last name had stumped them.
Gideon, in all its three-syllable glory, needed something simple after. Something distinguished for a theater marquee. Banning was out—he wouldn’t even consider it; he’d been adamant that his personal life and family stay separate from the acting.
Paige had asked what his mom’s maiden name was. When he’d said it was Shaw, the girl he’d just met and the agent who’d swooped in and shook up his life jumped up and high-fived with a chorus of enthusiastic approval.
So, Gideon Shaw, it was.
As his and Paige’s relationship grew and deepened, he’d let her into his private life, and well … she and his parents hit it off like vodka and ginger ale. Before he knew it, when she wanted to act all tough and business-like, it wasn’t unusual for her to break out the full name zinger, just as his mom would. The one that made every kid cringe and stop dead in their tracks. All that was missing was the ‘wait till your father gets home’ threat.
“All right, all right,” he grumbled. Words left him in the lurch. All of a sudden, he didn’t know what to say. Where was the beginning, and what was the end? What a fucking mess.
When he stayed silent way too long, she touched him on the back, rubbing little circles between his shoulder blades with her hand.
“It’s okay, Edward. I’m always here for you.”
“I hope you mean that,” he answered hastily. Eesh. He sounded more than a bit desperate.
When her hand moved up to his shoulder, she gave him a side hug that felt incredibly good. He was thrilled when she didn’t withdraw after that—keeping her arm around him and that soft hand of hers resting on the side of his neck.
“Sweetie,” she murmured. “It can’t be that bad.”
Oh, my god. He was scaring her with this bewildered, sullen silence and hesitation. This wasn’t like him at all. Whatever was going on wasn’t superficial noise—not judging by the way that he was acting. Something was eating away at him, and she’d be damned if that was okay.
When he finally looked at her, she had to fight the urge to fall headfirst into his captivating eyes. The shocking blue and those thick black lashes called to her in ways that made her squirm.
She wasn’t prepared when he asked, “Why do you put up with me, Paige? With all this?”
Without pause, her heart answered. “I …”
No. No! NO!
NO!
Ho-ly shitballz. Hearing the real concern in his voice, she had almost said ‘I love you’ to explain just why she, in fact, put up with all this crap.
The words came far too easily. She excelled at having presence of mind. That ability to think on her feet was a big part of why people found her so capable. Thank god, it served her right now.
“Well, sweetie,” she mockingly sneered. “I put up with your moldy ass because I love smog, pretention, PinkBerry, and a brutal drought. Next question?”
Relief swept through her when Edward leaned in and put his forehead against hers.
“Damn,” he muttered thickly. “And here I thought it was ‘cause you’re hopelessly in love with me.”
He was joking. Right?
With unerring accuracy, she dropped her arm from his shoulder and went straight for the water bottle planted in the sand at his side. One flick of a finger on the cap and it sprang open just as she upended the bottle and cold water drained down the back of his head, sliding down his neck and into this shirt.
Jolted by complete surprise, he barked, “What the fuck!”
Pushing her away, she winked in his shocked face and wrinkled her nose.
“Just cooling you down, loverboy. Reminding you that I’m not one of your awestruck fans. Or a horny co-star.”
His face fell at her jest, as if she struck a nerve.
Well, that was not good.
A troop of wildly stomping roughriders marched through her belly sending waves of anxiety into every corner of her being.
“Okay,” Paige drawled. “My bad and that makes us even.”
Nodding as he finished wiping the water off his neck, he growled, “Look,” but he was looking everywhere but at her. “I fucked up today.”
She snorted and elbowed him playfully trying to break his dour change of mood. “So, what else is new?”
“This is serious, babe.”
“Yeah, Edward. I get that. Cut me a damn break, okay? Remember—I’ve been watching you for a while, and I’m not stupid. You don’t hang by the shoreline in a pair of incredibly expensive tailored slacks, which, by the way, you’ve completely ruined, for no good reason.”
More head nods. Well, at least he was aware of what he was doing and that it seemed more than a bit odd.
“Has Mickey called you?”
The alarm bells started clanging in her mind. If he was asking about Mickey, then that meant some serious bullshit must have gone down.
“No. You told me to turn off my phone. Remember? Something about having earned a day off.” She all but harrumphed at the end. It had been his damn idea, after all.
“Yeah, right. Well, um … you might want to turn it back on because I’m pretty sure he’s halfway to an award-winning meltdown right about now.”
“What did you do?” No use in beating around the bush. All indications were that he’d stepped in it pretty good.
Edward rubbed his big hand on the back of his neck and grunted. “Fuck.”
“Perhaps another time, “ she pithily remarked. “Now … What. Did. You. DO?”
A tremendous wave crashed ashore sending a soft mist of sea spray into the air. The gentleness of it was so opposite to how she felt.
“The studio arranged a couple of sit-downs today. No print, mostly bloggers.”
Now see … this was exactly why she could never have a real day off. Not when they were in L.A. Too much potential for fuckery, a point so perfectly demonstrated by the damn studio hauling some last-minute crap out of their butts.
“How bad was it?”
She saw the relief in his expression at her question and wondered if it was because he feared she would be mad.
Keeping his gaze partially shuttered, he answered slowly. “Um, yeah. About that … well … it’s like this.”
And then he stopped talking.
Now, later on, maybe she’d rewind this moment and try to figure out why she did what she did, but at the moment, her every action and reaction felt completely natural.
Bellowing, “Jeez Louise, spit it the hell out, would you?” Paige whirled in the sand and jumped on him, pushing Edward flat as she straddled his middle and playfully slapped at his chest.
With her hands around his throat, she pretended to choke him and yelped, “Men! And you think we’re the troublemakers!”
The second she felt those big, sturdy hands of his grip her hips, she knew they were in the danger zone.
He might not have been making real eye contact before, but he sure as hell was now. Did it help that she immediately worried he would know how he affected her? No. Not at all. And it was her own damn fault for straddling his muscled torso in nothing but a pair of barely-there shorts and an even tinier pair of panties.
Shocked by her behavior, Paige froze. So did Edward. For the first time, she let her senses off their leash, aware that her bottom seemed to be butting up against a rather firm mound in the area of his zipper.
“You are a shit-ton of trouble, babe.”
He increased the strength of his hold on her hips, and then slid a palm around to one cheek of her ass.
In a screenplay, this would be a fade to black moment. Right after he kissed her silly and she let him know with a couple of shimmies and hip rolls how much he owned her.
Owned her? Oh, boy. That was telling!
Sanity restored, she glumly reached for one of his hands—the universal signal to cease and desist.
“Not a good idea,” she mumbled.
“You started it,” he groused.
“Yeah, I know, but we can’t cross this line.”
“Why not?”
What the hell was happening? Was he saying what she thought he was? And how was that even possible? How did they go from resting horniness to raging lust with nothing between?
So many questions and not enough answers.
“Edward …” Paige was lost and didn’t know what she should do. It was up to him to rescue this moment before it destroyed what they had.
He sat up, growled, “Shit,” kissed her on the forehead, and then lifted her as though she was the size of a toy and put her on the sand.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess I just wanted to …”
An actor at a loss for words was an uncomfortable thing to witness.
He cleared his throat and looked at her. “I don’t want to lose you, Paige.”
Huh? What? Lose her? Good lord. Enough with the beating around the bush.
“It would take a lot for that to happen.” She said it softly, maybe too softly, as the ocean breeze swallowed the words.
She saw him wince. Uh-oh.
With a heavy sigh, he told her. “Does a fake sex tape, a co-star blabbing lies, and a pissy little blogger looking for a story qualify as a lot?”
Edward didn’t even know how he got through telling Paige all that had happened. How that fucking blogger had set him up for a reaction and how this so-called X-rated romp had more bang for the buck than some of his movies. And how Joann had insinuated herself into the middle of the mess for god only knows what reason.
Goddammit. It wasn’t even fucking him on that damn tape, but it didn’t stop Edward from feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable about the whole thing.
She took it all in but didn’t say one word. He watched her fingers in the sand and briefly wondered if she kept them there rather than around his throat.
When she finally spoke, it seemed as though she was thinking out loud.
“The other day, Mickey was going on and on about some story he thought might be making its way through the media. I guess this explains what had him so jacked up. But…JoJo? How does she figure into this? Didn’t you make that tape like a year ago?”
That was it. Leaping to his feet, he angrily brushed the sand off his pants. “That goddamn, motherfucking, disgusting, piece of shit tape IS NOT FUCKING ME!”
Edward needed her to believe him. “What in the fucking fuck do I have to do to make you see that?”
Part of him wanted to unzip his pants and quite literally push her face into his crotch so she could examine the exact path of his tattoo and know without a shadow of a doubt that the hydraulic cock in that damn video was not him.
The unguarded expression on her face almost crushed him. Shit. Did Paige actually doubt him?
That was his breaking point. If he didn’t have her in his corner, well…fuck the whole career plan. Nothing was worth this bullshit.
Turning, he stomped off toward the house as her deep sigh wrapped around his frazzled nerves.
“Edward, wait,” she called out, but he was too upset to turn around. Coming to terms with how much he needed her to have his back was difficult enough without seeing the condemnation in her eyes.
She was on his heels less than two minutes after he’d stormed back into the house.
The silence in the kitchen was deafening, but he stood his ground. She either believed him—believed IN him—or she didn’t.
The first thing she did was go to her purse and pull out the iPhone that went with her everywhere. She set in on the counter as it fired up and reached into her backpack.
“Here,” she muttered after pulling out a gigantic bag of what appeared to be M&M’s and shoving it at him. “Personalized. Enjoy.”
What was personalized? He looked absently at the clear bag in his hands then finally noticed the mix of his two favorite colors—blue and purple—with the name Gideon Shaw in script on each little candy.
He wanted to ask where they came from and why but didn’t trust his voice for more than a terse, “Thanks.”
They both looked at her phone when it started beeping and chirping wildly. Just as he had suspected when she told him it was off, the second it connected again, all hell started breaking loose. Probably a hundred and fifty frantic texts and emails from Mickey. Maybe from the studio, too.
Paige glanced at the screen, picked it up, scrolled and read for a good minute and a half, sighed, quite deliberately switched the device to mute, and tossed it on top of her bag.
Well, at least he had her attention and wasn’t playing second fiddle to a damn phone.
He stared her down, but it wasn’t easy. Or fun. The moment had a rubber-meet-road quality to it.
In a tone meant to mollify—his mother pulled this shit, too—she calmly told him, “You know damn well that was a slip of the tongue. If you say it’s not you, then it’s not you. This is not something we need to debate.”
Who was she kidding?
“Fucking eh, Paige. Those are empty words, and you know it. And I’ll debate this stupid thing with you till hell freezes over if I have to.”
“What do you want from me?” she bit out, her arms flung up in surrender. “I’m goddamn agreeing with you. Why is that not enough?”
“Because I can tell that you’re just saying the words.”
She crossed her arms and glared at him.
Impasse. Yep, that was what this was. An impasse.
A light bulb went on over his head. This ought to make her stop and think.
“What would you do if the press reported that it was your bare ass riding the tiger in that damned video? Hmm?”
Her eyes flared then narrowed. The comment pissed her off, but before the anger, he had seen something else. Something … yeah. Something.
“Well, it isn’t,” she stated in a tight, affronted voice.
“I wouldn’t know,” he replied silkily. “It’s not me the lady was banging so maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t you.”
His follow-up shrug said it all.
Edward couldn’t remember ever seeing Paige’s mouth drop or witness her feeble and unsuccessful attempts to make words form.
He’d made his point.
The bottom dropped out of her stomach faster than a trip on that damn roller coaster he’d forced her to ride. What was that thing called?
Oh, right. The Intimidator.
She’d likely not forget that experience because Paige had never been scared so shitless in her life. Nothing like a mind-blowing, three-hundred-foot drop while your terrified screams mixed with the thirty others strapped along with you into little cars going ninety miles an hour. Paige had wanted to strangle Edward for making her ride that.
His comment about being unable to defend against an unprovable accusation had been a bull’s-eye that rattled her almost as much as the Intimidator. Same sensation. Same free-falling panic.
And the hurt in his voice only made it worse. Her unintentional slip had wounded him.
She didn’t want to get into it with him about that damnable tape. From the very start, when the X-rated sensation hit the pay-for-porn sites, they’d discussed what was happening in general terms. She hadn’t been able to handle it any other way. Even the suggestion of a video purporting to show one of the world’s sexiest men in a high-voltage romp with all his manly attributes on display for all the world to see had nearly destroyed Paige.
That was right about the time she had developed a hard-core jones for ice cream. Any mention of Edward, or rather Gideon, doing the dirty, and on film no less, sent her straight to the freezer. At the height of the insanity, she’d been consuming several pints a week.
Keeping cool while the gossip queens had giggle fits had been a daunting challenge. It had taken quite a bit of maneuvering and double-speak to keep from ever being in a position to have to watch the damn thing. Hearing and seeing his bruised emotions, though, was making her revisit the wisdom of that decision.
His reaction wasn't about her job, though. No, this was personal and had nothing to do with their professional association. It went way beyond who signed her damn paycheck.
Worry slithered through her senses. Had she stepped in it? It looked quite possibly as though she had. Edward wasn’t vain and he most certainly wasn’t prone to hyperbole, so the offense he took at what must seem to him like her disapproval was undoubtedly the real deal.
Trying not to think about what she was doing, Paige skirted around the kitchen island and reached for him, drawing the big man into a fierce hug.
Her face half buried on his shoulder, she told him, “They weren’t just words, sweetie. I’m on your side.”
His tension melted away at her assurance of support. When his arms slowly went around her and held on tight, she clung to him though she knew a rational person would have politely stepped back and resumed the status quo.
She’d have been content to stay wrapped up in him like that forever, but they had a shitstorm on their hands that needed handling. Tilting her head, she looked up at him and offered a timid smile, a far cry from her usual confident grin.
“Tell me again what Joann has to do with this.”
His arms tightened, and he gave her a dirty look. “I didn’t fucking sleep with her.”
“Pfft. I know,” she smirked. Didn’t he realize that if he, in fact, had bedded his blabbermouth co-star that JoJo would have rubbed Paige’s nose in it from day one? God, men were stupid about women.
Her frown was so hard it was painful. “I don’t understand what she hoped to gain by this.”
His grunt of disgust said it all. Pulling out of their clutch, he shook his head and frowned as his expression hardened. The glitter flashing in his baby blues was not at all friendly.
“Dave didn’t say she was implying the video was of her, only that she’d fucked a tattooed guy. Bitch. She knew what she was doing. If pressed, I’m sure she’ll backpedal like crazy and point out that she never mentioned anyone specific. The inference was quite enough.”
When his mouth snapped shut, her eyes widened. Wow. It was easy to understand why the lady was a legend. Batshit crazy wasn’t enough—she had to be a manipulative cunt, too. “Oooooh.” She widened her eyes and nodded her head to show her understanding.
“Somewhere between Mickey’s rant about a news story and this latest threat lay an ocean of lies and half-truths. People will hear what they want to hear, and Jo knows that. Just by putting her name out there, it means half the public will automatically assume it’s her. Because why? Because we have a movie coming out, and you know what that means.”
Crinkling her nose, she finished the distasteful thought. “Yeah. Means you’re doing her.”
His eyes flashed. “Exactly, but … I am not doing anybody. Neither is Gideon, I might add.”
She noticed the emphasis on the word doing and saw what appeared like regret in his expression when he looked at her.
“Right,” she murmured as a whirlwind of thoughts blew through her mind. “Shit, this gets complicated, huh?”
Paige leaned over the black marble of the enormous island and clasped her hands in front of her, almost as if she was praying. The lights hanging overhead reflected in the shiny surface—so too did the bright sunshine and blue ocean from the wall of windows facing the beach.
Deep in thought, she unconsciously traced her fingers on the mirror images, vaguely aware of Edward behind her leaning against the counter.
The gears in her mind were furiously grinding. If JoJo were stirring the pot, it couldn’t be good. She wouldn’t put it past the cold-hearted woman to use Gideon to her advantage, a thought that made Paige extremely uncomfortable. Maybe she should confront her and …
Waaaait a minute. Was he staring at her ass?
Bent over as she was and wearing a pair of shorts that needed a warning label, her butt had to be making quite a statement.
The librarian chose that moment to belly up to the bar and take control. Only this time, she had her naughty corset on beneath the conservative white blouse and gray skirt and had slipped her feet into a pair of who’s-your-mama-now heels.
With a small, melodramatic sigh, she shifted position and pretty much wiggled her bottom in his face. If he was looking, which she was sure he was, then Edward had just gotten quite an eyeful of her ass cheeks.
Oh, my god! I must be insane.
Quickly straightening, Paige hated that embarrassed heat was rushing up her neck and into her cheeks. What alternate universe was she in where playing the flirt was in any way a good idea?
When she spun around, thinking to restore some dignity to this odd situation, her stomach bottomed out for the second time this hour. The look on Edward’s face stopped her in mid-motion.
He’d never considered bending Paige over the kitchen island … until now. One glance at her amazing legs with the teasing hint of ass cheek, and he was beyond any hope of reining in the powerful surge of arousal that had him in its grip. Positioned as she was, that pert, sexy ass of hers was at the perfect height. Now, if only she’d spread those sinful legs, a must if she hoped to stay upright while he pounded her from behind.
She let out a soft sigh and then his brain melted. Watching her wiggle that ass, he could only wonder what she was doing. Which was it—invitation or dare?
Whatever. He’d take either.
In three quick step, he was behind her, his eyes never leaving the tops of her gorgeous legs where they disappeared into the skimpy shorts. He had to touch her, plain and simple. Had to know if her skin was as soft and smooth as it appeared. Had to hear her whimper when he slid his fingers up her shorts.
Edward’s mouth twisted into a wicked, knowing smile when she didn’t move a muscle. Which made it easy to close the slight distance between them and press his throbbing shaft into the seam of her ass.
He put his hands on the counter to either side of her as he leaned heavily and ground his pelvis on her softness. At first, she stayed motionless, but he could hear her breathing getting rapid and shaky.
Goddamn, what a view. The short, nearly transparent top she wore exposed her lower back and the super-sensitive spot at the base of her spine that his fingers itched to caress.
Bet I could make her moan by kissing and then licking her there.
“What are you doing, Edward?”
Stupid question, please meet a direct answer. “I’m admiring your beautiful ass, babe.” He emphasized this admiration with a gentle thrust of his hips. “And imagining what it looks like naked.”
That was all it took, some dick-to-ass-grinding and a couple of simple words, and she was his.
She whimpered softly. Her arms reached across the counter, palms down with nothing to hold on to after she’d flattened against the cold marble. Edward wondered if the coolness made her nipples harden and surged against her bottom, this time with growing need.
Some part of him that he barely knew, the essence of primal man that must live in every guy’s core, took over.
Stretched out under him with legs trembling against his, her bottom pushed back as he teased her with his body—she gave off a certain virgin sacrifice vibe that turned his already raging cock to stone. Painful, throbbing stone.
A deep grunt rumbled up from his chest right before the animal inside bent down, sinking his teeth into her neck and shoulder. Her cry as he bit the soft flesh signaled a surrender that filled him with unspeakable pleasure.
After giving her neck a thorough mauling, he nipped at her earlobe and growled next to her ear. “Do you want me inside you, Paige?” He pressed against her rather forcefully and gave three quick thrusts—a taste of what he had in store. “Want me to fill you up and take away the ache with my hard cock?”
Her hands moved, fingers wide, but there was nothing but smooth stone beneath her. She was helpless. Whimpering and panting softly. Shaking all over.
His reaction? Animalistic.
Time for the shorts to go.
Wrapping a hand into her long mass of hair, he gathered a good handful and sharply yanked her head up. She gasped and tried to look back at him, but he was having none of that. The moment would come soon enough when he’d demand she look at him, but till then, they would play by his rules. Caveman rules said he took and she surrendered.
Putting his other hand flat on her back, he ordered her to do as he said.
“You’re not to move.” A sharp tug on her hair made her gasp. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Pushing her flat again, he gently moved her hair away from the side of her face and pushed it aside, baring her neck.
He knew damn well the power of a simple touch, and he had gentled his after the rough reminder of who was in charge. Her eyes briefly drifted closed when his fingers softly stroked her neck, and he’d gritted his teeth from the effort of expressing any sort of tenderness. With the thunderous lust racing through him, he was struggling not to ravish the holy fuck out of her ass.
Edward reached under her and found the snap and zipper to her shorts, making fast work of the mechanics so he could get her naked as quickly as possible. But not too quickly. The masterpiece of her tight ass with the beautifully curved cheeks and the way her back arched was so damn perfect he wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible.
“Fuck.” He groaned when the shorts were gone, and all she had on from the waist down was a sexy scrap of white silk. There was something so fucking cool about the way she spread out on the damn counter in his kitchen. Talk about a feast.
He stepped back and Paige objected with a displeased, “Oh.”
“Be still,” he drawled.
Edward taunted her by putting his fingers inside the elastic of her panties as if he was set to pull them off but never did. It was more fun watching her squirm and seeing the way her skin prickled from his teasing touches.
Had she said something? He leaned close, keeping one of his big hands on her ass. He slowly rubbed while he asked, “Have something to say?”
This time, she shifted slightly and looked back at him, her eyes smoky and hooded.
“Please …”
He smiled. So polite … but was she wet? Hmm.
This time when he straightened and stepped back, she widened her stance, begging with her body and not just her words.
Running a hand over the enormous erection straining the front of his tailored slacks, he enjoyed the tantalizing view she made. Breathing heavily, he gripped and squeezed his cock.
Giving his sex one final tug, he immediately moved his hand to the space between her legs and cupped her silk covered mound from behind. The heat that rushed into his hand was like waving a red flag before a raging bull.
The scrap of silk was also damp. Pretty Paige and her sexy badass had a dripping pussy begging him to enjoy thoroughly.
He laughed when she shimmied against the fingers rubbing her covered slit.
“Someone can’t wait,” he smirked. Grabbing hold of her mound, he ground his hand against her, adding silkily, “Or did you start without me, hmm?”
It’d be so easy to make her come but ramping her level of arousal higher with a bit of denial would make her climax, when he allowed it, even sweeter.
“Edward,” she muttered rather sternly when he changed course completely and dropped to his knees behind her.
Ah-hahahaha. Yeah, right!
He enjoyed that straight-laced, almost prudish thing she had going, but that shit wasn’t going to fly once his blood started pumping.
“No, babe. We do things my way. Besides,” he murmured right before he kissed the flesh on her ass, “you want me to lick your lovely pussy, don’t you?”
He should have kept score of her whimpers. Letting her know he intended to feast on her sweet clit and lap the flood of arousal making her deliciously wet was like lighting a fire and then adding kerosene after the blaze was already almost out of control. She couldn’t help the sounds she made any more than he could.
Growling, he put his hands around each of her ankles, forced her legs apart, and inhaled sharply when her scent invaded his senses.
Running his hands slowly upward—exploring, caressing, and tantalizing every inch of skin—was exquisite torture. For both of them. Her breathing got erratic when his touch reached the back of her knees. Discovering all of Paige’s sweet spots, the ones that made her purr and cry out, was an endless delight.
Lightly tonguing the delicate skin made her shiver and him groan. The groaning and quivering continued as his mouth joined his hands on the sides, back, and inside of her beautiful legs. By the time his hands framed the masterpiece of all asses, they were both hanging by a thread.
First, he kissed both ass cheeks. When she whimpered and squirmed, he changed it up and licked the exposed skin, blowing on the wet trails until her flesh prickled with goosebumps. When he was sure she was in the zone, the animal took over again and bit down hard, neatly marking her.
She cried out, and that, as they say, was it for him.
Swiftly rising, his feral growl filled the silence. With one brutish tug, he ripped her panties in two, giving him full access to the part of her that was driving him mad.
He didn’t know how his pants ended up around his ankles, and he didn’t care. Using his feet to kick her legs further apart, he grunted like a wild beast and ran his fingers through her wet heat, telling her in the most vulgar of terms how much he wanted her pussy.
