I’d sacrifice the chance at partner, give up my apartment building, and sell my soul to the devil to taste a piece of heaven. The samples are good, but I need more. I want more with her. I want her.
I haven’t had sex for . . . well, a long damn time. I should be climbing the walls. I should be a grouchy ass who’s best avoided. But I’m the opposite.
Doesn’t mean I won’t race home to get this woman alone. I’ll be breaking the speed limits if it gets me there five minutes sooner.
I wave one last time to Mom before rounding the bend and leaving the others driving home in the SUV in my dust. Reaching over, I walk two fingers down Tealey’s thigh. She hasn’t made access easy by wearing jeans, but I think I’m up for the challenge. “What kind of underwear are you wearing?”
She laughs, her head pushing back on the seat rest. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, I would.” I smirk and then chuckle. “That’s why I’m asking.”
“None,” she replies, her eyes trained out the windshield.
I start braking, and her hands fly forward to brace herself against the dashboard. “Rad, what are you doing?”
“You can’t tell me you’re not wearing anything under those jeans and expect me to focus on the road.”
“If you focus on the road, though, you’ll get to see under these jeans sooner.”
“I know a restaurant parking lot nearby. Hint, hint.”
A smile is quick to appear. “Too much security patrolling the property.” She has a point. “I have an idea.”
“Where?”
“Your apartment in Manhattan,” she deadpans and sits back again.
A honk causes me to look in the mirror. Tealey turns to look out the back just as Cade speeds past us in the SUV, flipping us off. Sending me a look, she asks, “Are you going to let them beat us home?”
Home.
I can’t lie. I love hearing her call my place home.
“No fucking way.”
The last we saw of the crew was outside Medford when we all decided to grab snacks and get gas from a convenience store.
I tried not to worry about the Oreo cookie crumbs falling on Tealey’s lap and didn’t say a word when popcorn kernels fell onto the floorboard of my baby. Not a peep from me was heard when she dropped a jelly bean down the side of the seat, but I might have been squeezing the steering wheel.
If I weren’t still fixated on the fact that she says she’s not wearing any underwear, the rest of our trip might have gone a different way.
But as soon as that elevator opens into the apartment, I sag in relief. “It’s great to be home.”
27
Tealey
“Too tired?” I ask, smoothing a section of Rad’s hair to the side that’s hanging over his forehead. He looks at me, and the devilish smile on his face makes it hard to breathe.
“Depends why you’re asking.” He takes hold of my waist and moves in, dipping his head to my shoulder and placing little kisses there. I’m thinking we’re on the same page.
We haven’t made it five feet into the apartment, but I couldn’t stop the anticipation building on the drive back of us finally being alone and free to do whatever we please. Now, I’m so turned on my body feels like a live wire.
Rolling my head to the side, I give him more access to my neck. He pushes my hair aside and leaves lingering kisses on my skin. “Is this better?” His breath gives me goose bumps.
The ember inside me has been lit, and the burn of desire for this man is insatiable. We’ve been adding kindling to this fire for days, and now it’s beginning to consume me. Taking his hands, I start leading him to my bedroom. “I’m not going for better. I want spectacular. Are you up for the challenge, Welly?”
“I never shy away from a challenge.” Scooping me into his arms, he carries me the rest of the way.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
I get comfortable on top of the mattress as Rad settles between my legs. It’s not the first time we’ve done this. We’ve become experts in the art of making out, but this time, it feels like the love we’re making is reaching deeper than the physical part of our bodies connecting.
We’re alone.
Endless hours alone with him is what I’ve wanted since our first kiss. Now that I have it and his complete attention, this feels like a step we can walk back from. Seeing him go into it wholeheartedly has me leaving my nerves behind and enjoying it. “Take off your shirt,” I say a little too eagerly.
“So demanding, Miss Bell.”
He still gets up and undresses completely, which I appreciate. Why drag out what we both want anyway?
With my hands behind my head, I watch unabashedly. Maybe I should feel some shame, but I’ve never seen or been with a man so sculpted as he is. He’s a work of art, and I gratuitously take him in from head to toe and every delicious inch between. He works too hard on that body not to appreciate the effort he puts in. It would be rude of me not to.