Wrath (Sinful Secrets 4)

"You're pretty cute, JMills555. Does the 555 mean what I think it does?"

"What's that?" I manage, as the bartender swaps my empty for a new martini.

"It means you want to be anonymous." He smiles, making his eyes crinkle. "Everybody knows 555 is the fake TV area code."

"How did you find me on there?" I ask, trying not to check him out. He's fucking gorgeous. He's as beautiful as Ezra, but with different features.

My stomach pitches from the mere sound of that name in my brain. I fix my gaze on the guy beside me, my eyes ping-ponging from the blingy diamond necklace just above the neckline of his meshy Nike shirt to his Hollywood face. He's got a California look, with high, full cheekbones, thick-lashed hazel eyes, dark brows, and thick lips. His hair is buzzed short on the sides and long and gold blond up top.

"You checkin' me out, JMills?" He gives me a wolfish grin and tilts his head back, waving a hand at his thicc, delicious throat. I notice his nails are black as he runs a finger over his Adam's apple. "People like this," he says. There's a wicked glint in his eye.

"Who are you?" I blurt.

He gives me a high-gloss smile, tilting his head to the side like he's posing for the camera. "Who do you think?"

God, his voice is so seductive. Like...the perfect timbre. Except Ezra's.

I falter at my thought, and he gives me another coy smile. "Why don't we go talk in the back? I know a little darkroom."

The look he gives me has my heart stuffed up into my throat.

He gets off his barstool, glancing back, and I follow like he's holding an imaginary leash. Fuck, his back and shoulders are ripped. I can see the ridges of muscle beneath his black shirt as he moves. His jeans hang on his hips. And what an ass. That body’s made for fucking. Shit, this guy is a walking fantasy.

He leads me into a door and down a dimly lit hall to a closet. In the closet, there's a leather couch.

I sit on it, feeling too drunk to stand. My blood roars in my ears.

He comes between my legs, running his fingers through my hair as his eyelids go heavy.

"Such a pretty boy," he murmurs. His hand trails over my shoulder and down my arm, squeezing my triceps lightly. “What sport?” he asks.

I frown up at him as my heart pounds. “What do you mean what sport?”

He crouches down in front of me, his necklace glinting in the dim light of a lamp as his hand caresses my thigh through my shorts. "I can tell from your calves. You're either in the gym twice a day, or you're doing sports." He runs a hand over his own calf, which looks as thick as mine does. "These babies are from the gym," he says as his hand caresses my quads. "But I bet you're a real athlete. Am I right?"

His hand moves to the inside of my leg. Then he reaches inside my pants, his fingertips tickling my skin. I groan, spreading my legs.

"Oh so she's got hot from drinking." His smile up at me is pure sin. "That's because you're young, sweetie. I bet you're not even twenty-one yet."

I lean against the couch's back, breathing harder from the way his hand is moving, slowly, toward my hardening cock.

"Tell me," he says, stroking back down over my knee.

I rasp, "Soccer," and he smiles, looking a little smug and so fuck hot. "That's what I thought. An Alabama athlete. Freckles," he says, leaning down to kiss upward from my knee. "All-American," he breathes on my skin. "Athletic and down to earth, but still a pretty, pretty boy. Such soft skin. I bet you'd kill in drag."

He's sucking on the back inside of my knee, making chills pop out all over my arms. He kisses up my thigh, pushing my shorts leg up. Then his hand goes into my shorts, reaching till his fingers find the base of my dick.

"Fuck. You feel good." It's a rough whisper. His fingers close around me, dragging upward, as he leans in closer and his other hand unbuttons my pants.

"One handed," I manage.

"Oh yes." He gets me out with practiced care, pumping my shaft even as he's taking my cock out of my underwear.

His eyes come to mine, and he smiles. He rises up a little in his crouch, and then his hot mouth's taking me in. He's sucking on me, swallowing me down. I'm shuddering because his mouth is soft and hot. His hand comes under my balls, cupping, stroking my sac lightly, as he blows me fast...and—

I'm groaning.

"Ahh fuck," I whimper.

He sucks me like a lollipop and pulls me out of his mouth. "I'm gonna make you come, freckles. When I get going, you won't have a choice, so this is your time to tell me if you're underage or I should use a condom." He toys with my cockhead, stroking it so I'm moaning as he looks up into my eyes.