More Than Need You (More Than Words 2)

As we roll to a red light, I dip my head and seize Britta’s mouth, shoving her lips apart and tasting every corner of her sweetness. It’s like coming home but better. Just being near her turns me on, but this… I hold her tight against me with one arm, wishing like hell I didn’t need the other to drive. My tongue sweeps in, meeting hers, tangling until my heart threatens to thump out of my chest.

Someone honks behind me, and I look up to see the light has turned green. I slam on the accelerator, cursing the few minutes between here and our bedroom.

I half expect Britta to slide back into her seat for the rest of the trip, but no. She glides her plush lips up my neck, brushing them across my jaw, against a spot just below my ear that makes me shudder and the blood rush to my cock. When she unbuttons my shirt enough to skate her fingers along my hair-roughened skin, her mouth follows. Her tongue traces a loving path over my chest that makes my blood jet and my need soar. I want her so bad I almost can’t see straight.

“What are you doing to me?” I groan.

“What you do to me with nothing more than a look,” she murmurs softly in my ear.

My whole body shudders. “Oh, fuck… Angel.”

“Hurry.”

If I drive any faster, I’ll be speeding way too recklessly to stay on the road. “Two minutes.”

“Good.” She tugs at my bottom lip with her teeth as she caresses her way past my chest, to my abdomen…then toward the waistband of my pants. Her fingertips are flirting in dangerous places, and I’m trying to hold myself together. I have not waited over three years for this woman to lose my patience now, pull over on the side of the road, and snatch a quickie in the backseat of a compact. At six foot three, I don’t even think I’d fit. I definitely wouldn’t have the room to make love to her the way I want, to spread her out underneath me and leave her no question how deeply I feel for her.

I groan as Britta’s fingers find their way just inside my boxers. I swear she grazes the head of my cock.

“Griff…” Her voice itself is a seduction as she presses her lips down my neck, then nips her way back up to my mouth, delving into me.

I suck in a breath, try to keep my head on straight. Fuck yes. In every way, yes.

With a jerk of the wheel, I careen into the driveway. I lift my hand and stop steering long enough to raise the garage door. I refuse to let go of Britta.

Once I pull the car inside, I jam on the brakes. The vehicle lurches to a stop.

We bounce back into the seat, and I kill the engine. We stare, breaths coming hot and loud in the small space.

“I’m going to spend all night inside you, angel.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Her answer makes my cock even harder. I didn’t think such a thing was possible.

When Britta cups my face again and leans in like she intends to kiss me, I grab her wrist to stave her off. “Not here. I’m on the edge. It’s been almost fifty days since I’ve had an orgasm—for any reason. I haven’t gone that long without since I was sixteen, and I can’t vouch for my self-restraint. Let’s get inside the house.”

She blinks, frowns. “Why?”

Why haven’t I exercised my sex drive? She really has to ask?

I take her face in my hands and will her to understand. “I was waiting for you. I only want you.”

Britta melts against me softly, sweetly. “I’ve been waiting for you, too.”

I want to know how long it’s been for her. Did she really not have sex with Makaio when they went away for the weekend? But I don’t ask. I refuse to have him in bed with us—in any way—tonight or ever again.

I manage to wedge my hand down enough to release my seat belt, then shove the car door open. Britta eases off my lap and makes it out the passenger’s door. We leave everything else in the trunk. It will wait.

When I hold out my hand, she takes it. I shove open the door to the house, and we enter the dark hallway. There’s a soft light on over the top of the stove and another on a timer in the adjoining family room. I contemplate the sofa for a long minute, but Harlow won’t be far behind us. I stifle my urge to be inside Britta right now in favor of having privacy all night.

But everything between us needs to happen faster. My sanity won’t last otherwise.

Without a word, I turn and lift Britta into my arms, clutching her to my chest. She yelps in surprise, then winds her arms around my neck and locks her gaze with mine as I stomp my way up the heavy stairs. “Griff?”

Is my impatience upsetting her?

I frown. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

“I know,” she breathes. “I was just going to point out that if you had let me walk, I could have gotten undressed at the same time.”

I love the way her mind works.

I run double time until we’re in the bedroom we’ve been sharing for the last month and kick the door shut. I immediately attack my shirt, unfastening one button after the other and quickly shucking it onto the floor. “You could, but then you’d deprive me of unwrapping the perfect gift. How attached are you to that dress?”

She shakes her head, a slow smile spreading across her face as her eyes eat me up. “Not at all.”

An answering grin curls up my lips. “God, I love you.”

I grab a handful of the garment with my fist and tug her closer, then whirl her around to shove the sleeves down her arms. A moment later, I yank down the zipper while I’m jerking the garment down her hips. I’m hasty. I’m not even trying to be careful. The sounds of ripping fabric fill the air. The primal beast in me rejoices.

Once the little pinkish garment is in a heap on the floor, I glide a palm down Britta’s hip and use it to pull her against me. She must feel my erection prodding her back. She can’t be surprised by the fact I’m aroused as fuck. The only thing that’s keeping her from being completely naked is a pair of lacy, nude-colored panties barely covering her taut ass and a matching bra I can undo with one hand.

“Griff…”

I want her naked. I want that now. I want inside her, too. But I want to make her ache every bit as badly as I do first.

“Yeah, angel,” I murmur in her ear as I wind my hand around her waist, down the flat of her belly, under the waistband of her little panties. I skate my fingers over her bare sex, slick and plump and ready. Touching her again is a beautiful agony. I wouldn’t trade it for a hundred anonymous women.

I was being straight-up honest when I said I only want her.

When I walk my fingers between her folds and settle them over her clit, I have to grit my teeth to bite back a groan. Dragging my lips across her neck, I start rubbing her most sensitive spot slowly enough to ramp her up…but not nearly fast enough to provide relief.

Her entire body stiffens. Her back arches. She tosses her head against my chest and grabs my thighs, fingers digging in.

“Like that?” I croon.

“Yes…”

“Want it? Need it?”

“Yes,” she pants. “God, yes.”

I love hearing the desperation in her voice. She’s always been responsive to me, putty in my bed. But this is sweeter, somehow new all over again. Maybe in the back of my head, where I’m trying not to want to hunt down every guy she’s ever fucked, I’m aware she finally has a point of comparison so she can be sure how good I make her feel and this is what she wants.