Turn and Burn (Blacktop Cowboys 5)

Fletch squirted oil directly onto his sternum and ran his hands over his shoulders as one thick stream of liquid slid down, down, down his torso. Before the rivulet reached his belly button, he smeared it across his abs.

Dripping oil on his fingertips, he rubbed his fingers together before he placed them on his lower abdomen and began to inch them beneath the waistband of his board shorts, his eyes locked on to hers. Tanna couldn’t miss his c**k tenting his trunks.

“Stop,” she said hoarsely. “Sweet Lord. Are you really fixin’ to jack off right here?”

Fletch feigned a confused look. “You thought I was . . . ?” He laughed. “God, no. I was just adjusting my trunks.” He rolled down the elastic band and tugged on the lining. “Why? Is that something you’d like to see?”

“I already told you no,” she snipped. “Now that you’re all greased up like you’re in a body builder’s competition, you gonna lay in the sun and see if you can’t get that skin a little redder?”

Such a smart mouth. He manufactured a shocked gasp. “You mean that was oil to make my skin darker? Not sunscreen?”

“Nope.”

“Well, shit. I’d better wash this oily gunk off right away.” He walked to the edge of the pool.

Her eyes widened. “Fletch. No.”

He tucked his arms around his knees as he jumped in. A big guy like him could do maximum water damage with a well-placed cannonball.

When he surfaced, he saw that he’d completely drenched Tanna. He’d even knocked her off the float.

Sweet.

“What are you? A twelve-year-old boy?” she demanded, wiping the water from her eyes.

“Yep. I see a girl I like at the pool and I splash her to get her attention. Especially if she’s fixin’ to ignore me.”

“Not nice, makin’ fun of my accent.” Tanna flipped her hair over her shoulder. When she noticed him stalking her, she warned, “I wasn’t kidding, Fletch. I’m in a mood and you really don’t wanna be around me right now.”

He put himself between her and the steps. “I’m in a mood myself. So how about we just skip the niceties and take out our frustrations on each other?” He’d herded her until her back was against the wall. Then he braced his hands on the ledge beside her shoulders and leaned in. “I wanna f**k you every way I can think up. Hard. Fast. Dirty. Rough. Nasty. I wanna use my mouth, my teeth, my hands and my c**k in ways that’ll make you blush, make you scream and make you cream. I wanna strip this down between us to pure, animal f**king. It’ll take the edge off and then some.”

Tanna shuddered. Then she turned her head and bit down on the ball of his shoulder with enough force that he hissed. She licked the line of his collarbone, up to the arch of his neck and whispered, “Big talk. Prove it.”

Instant shot of adrenaline. His breathing changed. His focus sharpened.

Her nails dug in to the side of his neck as she yanked his mouth to hers for a ferocious kiss.

Fletch let her have control now—because after this? Control was all his.

When she finally relinquished his mouth, he spun her around so she was in front of him. One hand twisted in her hair and he flattened his other hand against her belly. His lips started at the tender sweep of her shoulder and drifted up, stopping behind her ear. “Do you wear your hair up at work?”

“Ah. No.”

“Good.” He opened his mouth below her hairline and sucked. Hard. And he kept sucking, marking her with a love bruise even when her knees buckled. He felt the vibration of Tanna’s moan beneath his lips and he couldn’t help but sink his teeth in a little more.

Tanna moaned louder.

He added two more marks that when he finished looked like a fat letter F. She might not be able to see it, but it was there. And he knew it was there.

Then his lips traveled to her other shoulder and he raised her arm up to nip and kiss the tender skin on the underside.

Another shiver worked down her body and he watched her ni**les tighten.

Fletch let go of her hair. “Leave your arm up.” He bent it at an angle, keeping her bicep by her ear and putting her palm on the back of her head. “Stay like that.” He curled his hands around her rib cage and followed the contour of her body, slowly, pausing on her hips. “Spread your legs.”

She complied without protest.

He traced the edge of her suit bottoms. Even beneath the water he felt her abdomen quiver in response. He slipped his left hand beneath the elastic band, following her slit to her opening. He pushed one finger in her pu**y, growling, “You’re so f**king wet. And I know it ain’t from the pool water.”

“It’s all you,” she breathed against his neck.

His dick twitched against her ass and she ground back into it. Fletch nudged her head to the side and fastened his mouth to the skin right below her jawbone as he plunged one finger in and out, then two.

Tanna undulated, bumping her pelvis into his hand.

“Hold still,” he warned. Once she’d settled, he slipped his right hand into her swimsuit bottoms too. He stretched the fleshy part above her pu**y lips with his index and third finger, while his middle finger began to manipulate her clit.

“Oh God.”

His oil-slick fingers rubbed her inner pu**y wall opposite her pubic bone. Knowing it drove her crazy, he alternated tapping on her clit with drawing small figure eights.

Fletch drifted into that place where her pleasure was his only concern. He tasted her skin and breathed in her scent, his fingers propelling her toward orgasm. The heat of the sun, the temperate water, her soft body pressed against his, the aromas of coconut oil and chlorine—this had to be paradise.