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Tough Shit (Rejects Paradise 1)

Page 97

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“Only if you promise to be rough.”

A low guttural growl pulls from deep within his chest as his hands find my ass. He picks me up off the counter as though I’m as light as a feather, not once taking his lips from my neck. Charlie starts walking and right now, I don’t even care where he takes me. Hell, if the guys weren’t sitting right outside the door with a perfect view of the kitchen, I would have demanded he fuck me right there on the counter.

At the thought of the guys, I can’t help but raise my eyes over Charlie’s shoulder. Colton watches us with a raging fire burning brightly behind his hazel eyes. If looks could kill, Charlie would be dead but he can’t do anything about it. If he treated me well, this might have been him. I would have happily rode him all night long. I would have blown his shallow little mind, but he wants to play games and because of that, I’m about to fuck one of his best friends and I’m going to enjoy it.

Charlie pushes through to the den and I silently thank him as the four walls around us mask the jealousy and confusion radiating off Colton, allowing me to concentrate on the fine piece of man meat wrapped between my legs.

He kicks the door closed behind him and the sharp ‘bang’ of the door closing has my world ready to detonate. It’s just me and Charlie with a million possibilities and a silent promise of the time of my life.

His hands fall to my waist and I reluctantly unwrap my legs just in time to be thrown down on the big couch.

I look up at him and there’s a fire burning so intensely that it speaks right to my core. Holy hell. He’s ready. More than fucking ready.

His shirt is pulled over his head and I watch as it’s discarded on the floor before his hands find the button of his jeans. He stalks toward the couch and I bite down on my lip.

Fuck, yes. I need this so bad.

Charlie’s jeans drop and I’m not at all surprised to find him going commando. His cock springs to attention and it’s almost as though it’s staring right at me; large, powerful, and in charge. This thing is going to be my undoing and if he doesn’t slam it deep within me soon, I think I might scream.

I scramble up on the couch so my back is up against the backrest and as he looks down at me, I feel everything clench.

“Strip.”

Oh, holy hell. Who is this guy? This isn’t the fun-loving Charlie who grins about girls liking bad boys, this is a fucking man ready to claim what’s his and for that, I will bow at his feet and let him take it, all of it. There’s nothing worse than getting a guy in bed to find he’s an incompetent, nervous wreck. I like someone who will take charge, dominate me, and make me feel like a goddamn woman. A guy just like Charlie.

I peel my damp shirt over my head to find my bikini still beneath. I never bothered to get dressed after the party, just pulled my pajamas over my bikini. My shorts are twisted and cold but I make quick work of them too.

I get to my feet and stand up on the couch in my red bikini, putting us eye to eye.

Charlie reaches out to touch me and I slap his hand away. “Wait your turn,” I demand.

His eyes blaze but he refrains from touching me like a good boy should. I reach up behind my neck and tug on the bikini string, slowly releasing the knot at the base of my neck.

His hand falls to his hard cock and I watch as he slowly pumps up and down.

My bikini top falls to the couch and I run my hand over my tits. My nipples are hard from the cold, wet bikini, only making them sensitive to my touch.

I palm my breast, squeezing it hard and watching as he mimics the movement on his cock then grins. “Fuck, baby. You’re perfect but I need to touch you. Taste you.”

“You will,” I promise.

I release my breast and pull on the two knots on either side of my bikini bottoms just as slowly as I had with the top. The flimsy material falls away and I slide my hand over my hip and down between my legs, feeling my wetness staining my fingertips.

I gently circle my clit, not once taking my eyes off Charlie.

He looks pained, desperate and I decide not to torture him any longer.

Knowing I won’t make it if we fooled around first, I glance down at his discarded jeans. “Do you have a condom?” He gives the slightest nod and I sigh a breath of relief. “You’re going to need to put that on.”


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