The Secret (Winslow Brothers 3) - Page 61

My legs speed up in a race with my mind, and I’m nearly around the corner when a hand latches on to my elbow and pulls me to a stop. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is, so I jerk at my arm without even looking back.

“Rachel, stop,” Ty whispers sternly, grabbing it again and directing me into a supply closet across the hall and closing the door. My anger burns like a smoldering ember.

“Let me leave, Ty.”

“No,” he denies, backing away from me bodily but leaning his against the door and effectively blocking me in. “Not until we talk.”

“What’s there to talk about? Just let me go, and let’s finally put this behind us, for shit’s sake.”

“Rachel, do you really think that’s what I want? To put this behind us? You think I don’t fucking want you? Is that what you think?” he challenges, stepping toward me with every question. “You think I don’t think about my cock between your legs and the face you’ll make when you come and sucking on your tits until you scream every fucking waking moment of the day?”

My breathing shallows, and it’s suddenly hard to take a full gulp of air into my lungs. The walls of this small closet almost feel like they’re closing in.

“You think I don’t want to fuck you until we both pass out, our hearts beating so hard we’re close to going into cardiac arrest?”

I swallow thickly, and he smacks the door at his back with an open-palmed hand.

“Wake up, sweetheart. You’re all I fucking think about. When I’m supposed to be working, when I’m in the shower with my hand wrapped around my aching cock, when I’m teaching a lecture with your sweet little cunt and those hot-as-fuck panties teasing me in the front row. You. Are. All. I. Fucking. Think. About.”

“Ty,” I whisper, the throb of every word he’s said finding a home between my legs. Sweet land of the living, he’s sexy

“Before, I was trying to do the right thing. But right now, I don’t give a fuck about anyone but you and me. And I’m going to show you just how badly I want you.”

Ty spins us, pushing me gently against the door and sinking to his knees in front of me. I don’t have time to open my mouth, and I don’t want to. The only mouth I’m thinking about right now is Ty’s.

He scoots my skirt up my legs with ease and grabs the side of my sheer pink panties with his teeth, pulling them gently down my legs until they’re low enough for his hands to take over. I step out of them easily, and he tucks them directly into his pocket with a smirk. Once again, the infamous panties are in his possession as a souvenir. I’m not entirely sure I’ll be getting them back this time. But that was the point, wasn’t it? I knew what I was doing when I put them on this morning, even if I pretended to come here to be on good behavior.

At the end of it all, I knew this was what I wanted—needed—to happen.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Ty orders, his voice coarser than normal. I do as he asks, stretching my leg up and over and hooking my knee on his shoulder so my calf runs down his back.

The air in the closet feels like a cool breeze against my newly exposed flesh—especially with how overheated it is right now.

Ty blows warm air over me, almost as though he can sense my thoughts, and my head falls back against the door with an audible thud.

Dear God, he hasn’t even touched me yet, and I feel like I’m going to climb out of my skin. Call Hollywood to come pick up their extensively detailed bodysuit; I’m ready to shed a layer.

“Oh, Rachel, you have no idea how fun this is going to be,” Ty muses, the sight of his shock of brown hair between my legs making them start to shake.

I swallow hard and grab a chunk of his hair, unable to stop myself from seeing what my fingers look like tangled up in it while he puts his tongue between my legs.

Sweet merciful pleasure, it’s even better than I thought it would be. The soft tresses, his sizzling blue eyes holding contact, and the warm imprint of his hand on my lifted thigh—heaven.

“Ty, touch me, please.”

He leans in, my hand still firmly holding his hair, and licks a long line up the center of my pussy. If it weren’t for my position, effectively trapped between him and the door, I’m certain I would have collapsed. I’m also certain that if Ty’s tongue on me didn’t feel this good, I wouldn’t be referring to it with the word “pussy.”

Tags: Max Monroe Winslow Brothers Romance
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