Down to You (The Bad Boys 1) - Page 15


I fist my fingers in his hair, holding him to me when the world breaks apart. Light and heat explode behind my eyes and I cry out. I feel his hands come around my h*ps to hold me still and he finishes me off, burying his hot, wet tongue inside me, licking me from the inside.

My pulse is throbbing in every part of my body when I feel him move up to pull my tank top over my head. I’m limp beneath his hands when they cup my breasts, teasing the hard points of my nipples.

He draws one into his mouth, gently nibbling it with his teeth, intensifying the waves of pleasure coursing through me. I raise my hands to his shoulders and feel only smooth skin. He’s not wearing a shirt.

I thread my fingers through his hair when he moves his head to my other breast. He teases and taunts it as well.

He moves again and his lips are on mine.

His tongue slips into my mouth to tease mine, licking at it. I draw his tongue into my mouth and close my lips around it, sucking gently. When I release it, I hear his hoarse whisper. “See how good you taste?” I cup his face and lap up the wetness from around his mouth, from down on his chin. He groans loudly, his body moving against mine. “That’s right, baby. You like that, don’t you?”

I hear his zipper followed by the rustle of his pants as he moves to push them down his legs. I use my heels to help him, reveling in the feel of his bare skin against the insides of my thighs.

He flexes his h*ps and I feel the tip of his hardness slip between my folds. He makes tiny movements, sliding back and forth, stroking me with his body. “Just so you know,” he says breathlessly, “I’m clean. Tell me you are, too, and that you’re on the pill,” he begs.

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly, the only word I’ve spoken since his arrival.

He comes up onto his elbows where he’s poised above me. I can feel him looking down into my face even though I know he can’t see me any better than I can see him. There is a smile in his voice when he says, “Perfect!”

And then slides into me.

I feel like whimpering when he stops far short of full penetration and pulls out again. I want to cry at the loss. But I don’t have time. He moves in again, further this time, letting me get used to his size before he pulls out once more. He continues to tease me, each time filling me up a little further, bringing me closer to the edge again, until I’m ready to scream.

“Say it,” he whispers, taunting me with the tip as he moves in and out in quick, short strokes. Reaching up, I fist my fingers in his hair and pull his mouth to mine. I use my lips and tongue to plead with him, to show him every ounce of my desire. I sink my teeth into his bottom lip and I lift my hips, hoping to bring him fully inside. But he pulls back, again only giving me part of himself. “Say it,” he demands.

I’m panting with need, the threat of another orgasm tightening my muscles as I squeeze his h*ps between my legs, begging with my body. Still, he resists, never allowing his body to move more than a few inches into mine before retreating. “Say it,” he repeats a third time.

I lick a trail from the base of his throat all the way to his ear where I force out between shallow breaths the single word he wants to hear.

“Please.”

Bending his head, his mouth covers mine as he drives his body deep into mine, stealing my breath. He gives me every inch of length and girth as he moves violently within me, stretching me tight over and over again, driving me closer and closer to ecstasy.

His lips move over the skin of my face and neck to the valley between my breasts. Blood pumps to my tingling ni**les when his mouth moves toward them. I arch my back, pressing my chest toward him, begging for the feel of his hot mouth and wet tongue. “Come for me,” he says softly, drawing my nipple into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. As if to punctuate his request, he grinds his h*ps into mine and bites down on my nipple. “Come for me, baby,” he growls again.

It’s all the motivation I need. Tightening around him, I give in to my second orgasm, glorying in the friction of his h*ps against mine as he rubs me into a wave of the purest pleasure.

I’m breathless as he pounds harder into me. I feel my body gripping his, milking it. His tempo increases with his breathing until, suddenly, he stiffens. “Olivia,” he moans heavily, coming and spilling heat and passion deep inside me.

His movements slow, but he remains buried inside me, making the spasms of my body squeezing his even more pronounced. We remain like that for a couple of perfect minutes.

When neither of us has anything left to give, he collapses onto me and we lay in a tangle of damp limbs and heaving chests. With his weight braced on his forearms, he nestles his face in the curve of my neck and presses a soft, wet kiss to the skin beneath my ear. He says nothing, but his warm, heavy breath dries it.

My heart is filled with emotion, my head is spinning with questions and my body is throbbing in the aftermath. There is so much to think about and worry over and contemplate, yet it seems so very…unimportant. Conflict rages inside me. In a thousand years, I would never have thought I could fall asleep like that.

But I do.

********

Dawn is just breaking when I open my eyes. Hot kisses and great sex are the first things that enter my mind.

I look around at my empty room. There’s no evidence of any naughty night time visitors. In fact, I might’ve convinced myself I’d dreamed the whole thing if it weren’t for the soreness I feel between my legs when I move.

I smile. It’s a pleasant soreness, one that reminds me of the massive instrument that inflicted it.

Good God, did you just call it an instrument?

I giggle. I can’t seem to help it. I’m happy. Very happy. At least for the moment.

I should be tired, but I’m not. I feel rejuvenated and ready to face the day.

“Maybe Ginger’s right. Maybe sex is actually good for me,” I mumble into the quiet. The walls absorb the sound and remind me that I have the place all to myself. Marissa is gone for another couple weeks. That alone is reason to celebrate.

Thoughts of her bring me to thoughts of Nash. What if it had been him that visited me last night? I hadn’t been able to see clearly enough in the dark to identify whether the delicious chest above me had a tattoo on it or not. How will I know?

For a moment, I’m lost in memories of the feel of smooth, taut skin beneath my fingertips, of rippling muscles in long arms and broad shoulders, of slim h*ps clamped between my thighs. Just the thought of that is enough to leave me feeling damp and wanting.

Throwing off the covers, I head to the shower. As I scrub and buff, I search my mind for clues that might hint at which brother gave me such an incredible night. I think they are both perfectly capable of making me feel that way and nothing that happened seemed like something only one would do or say. Especially say, as not many words were used.

I smile at the thought.

Not many words were needed.

Entry isn’t an issue. Cash has my keys, Nash has Marissa’s. Attraction isn’t an issue. Both brothers have made it very clear we have an intensely physical connection. Willingness might be the only area there’s a discrepancy. Cash has made it very clear he’s interested in a physical relationship with me. Nash, on the other hand, is taken and he’s trying to do the right thing.

But then I remember it wasn’t Nash who stopped us on the rooftop. If I hadn’t brought us to a halt, would we have had sex up there, on a chaise lounge where Nash has probably sat with Marissa?

The more I think, the muddier things get and the more questions and concerns I develop. So I put it out of my head. Surely I’ll be able to tell when I see Cash whether or not we had sex.

Surely.

After dressing, I make my way into the kitchen to brew some coffee. I’m surprised when I hear my phone ring from my bedroom. I race to get it.

My stomach flutters when I see Nash’s name on the lighted screen. What does such an early call mean? That he was with me until a little while ago? Or he got a good night’s sleep, which means he wasn’t here?

I slide my finger across the screen to answer it.

“Hello?”

There’s a pause.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I’m actually making coffee.”

“Oh, good. I wouldn’t want to disturb you. I assumed you’d have your alerts off and I’d get your voicemail. I just wanted to make sure you saw the flowers I left.”

I’m a little deflated. That doesn’t sound like something the guy who just explored my entire na**d body with his tongue might say.

“Yes, I saw them when I came in last night.”

“Perfect. I just wanted you to feel free to call me if you need anything while Marissa’s away.”

“Um, I will. Uh, thanks.”

“I’ll let you get back to your coffee then. I’ve got to get to work. Early meetings.”

“Okay. Thanks for the flowers, Nash.”

“It was my pleasure, Olivia.”

I hear a smile in his voice. Don’t I?

Chills remain on my arms long after he hangs up. Just hearing him say my name reminds me of the night before, of that voice moaning my name as he was coming.

Only it obviously didn’t belong to Nash. It belonged to his brother.

I’m not entirely surprised to find out it was Cash. The whole scenario fits his character more than it does Nash’s. Only a bad boy would come, uninvited, into a girl’s house and wake her up to seduce her in her own bedroom.

And only a bad boy would think I wouldn’t mind. I have to smile at that.

He’s got nerve. I’ll give him that.

But he was right. I didn’t mind. In fact, I didn’t mind twice. And probably wouldn’t have minded a third and fourth time if I hadn’t fallen asleep like a loser. It’s been a while and I forgot how incredibly relaxing great sex is.

I’m just sitting down at the dining room table to do some reading before class when my phone rings again. This time the screen shows Cash’s name, but my reaction is the same. My stomach flutters with excitement.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, gorgeous. You up?”

“Yep,” I say, unable to keep the grin from my voice.

“So, your car is at my buddy’s shop. It’s definitely the alternator.”

“Shit,” I mumble, my early-morning buzz succumbing to the realities of owning a piece of crap car. “Any idea how much something like that’s gonna cost me?”

“For you? Nothing. He owes me a favor.”

“I can’t let you do that, Cash.”

“I suppose you’re going to stop me?” he says derisively.

“I’m being serious. That’s too much. I can’t accept a gift like that.”

“You can and you will. Besides, don’t think of it as a gift. You’ll be paying me back.”

My smile returns and my nerves sing with exhilaration. I can’t wait to hear what he has in mind.

“Is that right?”

“Yep. Starting with an extra shift next week if you can swing it.”

I’m disappointed again. That’s not nearly as sexy as I expected it to be. After last night, surely he knows I’d be more than happy to pay him back in any number of ways and positions. Unless he’s not my late-night visitor after all.

What kind of a floozy doesn’t know who she slept with the night before?

I roll my eyes.

And who uses the word floozy?

One name comes to mind. Tracey, my mother. That’s her word.

Shaking my head, I get back to important things. Like who spent part of last night tickling my ovaries.

As I think about it, the thing that bothers me most is that neither guy is amorous enough this morning for me to be able to accurately determine the culprit. How sad is that?

Ohmigod! Have I lost my touch? Do I suddenly suck in bed?

Cash clearing his throat reminds me he’s awaiting my answer.

“Oh, uh, you know I’ll do whatever I can to pay you back, but it kinda depends on the night. I can’t be out too—”

“Oh, you won’t be out very late. This is an accounting project I’d like you to look at. I just ask that you don’t put your hair in a bun or wear orthopedic shoes.”

I laugh at his vision. “Fine. I guess I can work my numeric magic without the tools of my trade.”

“I’m sure you can,” he says absently. “In the meantime, however, you’ll need a ride to school, right?”

“Um, yeah.” I didn’t even think of that. These guys have really scrambled my brain. “I guess I will.”

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there to get you.”

My brain finally starts working and I begin to think like a rational person. If Cash takes me to school, I’ll have no way home unless I call a taxi, which will get expensive since I’ll have to take one to work and back all weekend until my car gets fixed.

“You know, I can skip school today. It’s not like I’m taking any really hard classes now anyway. That way I won’t have to impose on you anymore than I already have.”

“You’re not imposing on me. I don’t mind.”

“I’d really rather not bother you. Really. I’ll just see you tonight.”

“Get dressed. Be ready. I’ll be there in ten.”

With that, he hangs up, giving me no choice in the matter.

Almost exactly ten minutes later, I hear the deep rumble of Cash’s bike. I feel it in my stomach, like it breathed excitement into my body in a very physical way. Try as I might to keep my distance from him, it’s clear I’m getting into a bad place with Cash.

And the worst part of it is, I don’t think I want to stop.

Tags: M. Leighton The Bad Boys Erotic
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