Top Dog - Page 250

I had to go. Now. My pussy was contracting wildly alongside the vein on the side of my neck. Heat like I’d never experienced before threatened to consume me, and I walked back to the patio, closed the door and headed straight for our bathroom.

“Hey. Do you want to-” Libby started, but I cut her off.

“Not now. Just need a quick shower. My skin is itching.” I slammed the door behind me, turned on the water and stripped down. Soft mewling noises left me as I fumbled into the shower and pressed my back against the cold tiles.

“Harley,” I whispered and slide my hand down my stomach, pressing my fingers past my wetness and driving them into my center. I closed my eyes and the world disappeared and all that was left was him. On his knees. Fucking me with strong fingers and a wicked tongue.

I bit my tongue to hold back my scream as electricity exploded in the center of my stomach. I wanted him so bad it hurt, and I knew now that he must have felt the same way.

CHAPTER EIGHT - HARLEY

I woke the next morning with a headache like a mother fucker. All night long I’d been pacing the damn floor. After waking up just after midnight to the sound of gunshots, I had no choice. Madrid was a stupid choice for a trip, and everyone with half a bit of sense in their fucking head knew it. It wasn’t safe. Period.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I sighed in annoyance at Libby’s question. She looked up at me in her own visible annoyance from where she nursed a cup of coffee next to Abigail on the patio.

“No,” I said, shortly. “I’m not kidding. There are attacks going on. Neither one of you are allowed out of this hotel today until I hear clearance.”

“What are we supposed to do then?” Libby asked. “This is ridiculous, Harley. It’s not a big deal out here.”

“I’m being paid to protect you. Until I hear something, keep your ass in your hotel room. I’m not going to come rescue either one of you again if you go out without me knowing.”

Libby rose from her patio chair with an irritated huff. “Whatever. I’ll just go take a nap while I wait for this trip to turn fun again.”

“Libby—” Abigail started.

“Come get me when he gets that stick out of his ass,” Libby told Abi, shooting me a dirty look before going back into her room. The doors slammed shut behind her.

“I’m sorry,” Abigail said, setting her cup of coffee down. “She just thinks that you’re being paranoid about everything.”

“Did she not hear the gunshots last night?” I asked, sharply.

Abigail looked at me intently then. Hesitating for a moment, she reached forward to gently place a hand on my bouncing knee. “I heard them, but it’s fine. You’re here, and I know you wouldn’t let anything happen.”

The touch of Abigail’s hand on my knee instantly drew me out of those dark memories of Iraq a few months ago. I inhaled deeply to calm my racing nerves while I looked down at Abigail’s fingers resting on my knee. Her hands were so small and petite that I could easily shatter them by just gripping them too hard. Still, they held so much strength and warmth to them.

And I liked the feeling of her hands on my body a little too much. Heat flared beneath her palm and finger tips. I pulled my knee back subtly as possible and tried not to dwell on the disappointment of losing it.

Abigail’s safety was my pr

iority and paycheck.

If I dwelled on the tempting thought of taking her into my bed, I’d cave in and fuck her against the first solid structure I came to. The past week she had stuck to my side like glue instead of walking ahead of me as usual with Libby. There was constant little touches and brushes that were hard to ignore. I couldn’t reach out and grab her the way I wanted to, but taking her in my mind while I worked myself over the edge in the shower would work. It have to. That was as close as I was getting to her sweet center.

Cold showers weren’t doing anything either. I ended up pleasuring myself in muffled silence just to ease the damn ache, but Abigail fueled it on. I could still see her in my mind’s eye, her chest pressed to the shower. I wanted to take her from behind, to slide past the slick curve of her ass and drive into her heat while I bit at the back of her shoulder and licked the long line of her neck. I could almost feel her squirming against me in the shower the night before, hear her moan as I tugged at the peaked nipple of one of her breasts. She’d come like a fountain, joining me before I put her on her knees to clean up the mess she made. Fuck. I was going to break my contract and take her before the trip was over. I wanted her too goddamn bad to deny myself. I was fucked.

I had a creeping suspicion she knew what she was doing, but there were times I caught those innocent stares. It was hard to believe she was a virgin still.

“Is it hard to fight?”

I blinked back from those thoughts at the curious question. I looked up to find Abigail curled up in her chair with her cup of coffee in hand. The strands of her hair were silky and straight today while they fluttered in the hot breeze. A rich floral smell followed every time the wind picked up.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You know,” she said, shrugging her petite shoulders, “could you teach me how to fight?”

“Fight how?” I asked, perplexed by this conversation. Not once had Abigail ever expressed interest in learning how to fight. “As in self-defense with a gun, or—”

Abigail’s face contorted in fear. “Oh, no. No guns for me. I’m too afraid to pick one up, let alone pull a trigger.”

Tags: Rye Hart Romance
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