The Favor

He took a casual swig of his drink, like it was totally the norm to come into my bedroom like this. Keeping his gaze locked with mine, he set the glass on the nightstand. And then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

My heart thudded hard in my chest. Shit, how much had the guy drank? He was obviously smashed. Although … he didn’t look drunk. His eyes weren’t glassy, and he wasn’t weaving. He looked determined. Focused. Hungry.

Need flared inside me and tightened my nipples. Shit, this couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t. It shouldn’t. But hell if I didn’t still want it to, despite my better judgement.

“Dane,” I said, my voice low and calming, like I was talking to someone on the verge of jumping off a bridge. The situation just felt so precarious. “Dane, you know this is a bad idea.” An attractive idea, but an unwise one all the same.

He didn’t speak, didn’t react. He also didn’t stop unbuttoning that freaking shirt.

I shuffled backwards on the mattress and then got to my knees, ready to edge off the bed to effectively place the piece of furniture between us.

“Don’t move.” The quiet command rang through my body, reverberating in my very bones, and I couldn’t help but freeze. His eyes went heavy-lidded with approval. “Good girl.” He slipped off his shirt and let it fall to the floor.

I felt my lips part. Jesus, his chest was packed with muscle. My hands itched to smooth over all that sleek skin; to trace the lines and dips of his abs.

Giving myself a mental slap, I lifted a hand to ward him off. “We agreed this couldn’t happen again. Remember?”

His hands lazily dropped to his waistband. Still moving slowly and casually, he snapped open the top button of his fly and then lowered the zipper—holding my gaze the entire time. I sensed more than saw him kick off his shoes.

“Seriously, Dane—” Oh fuck, he’d shoved down his pants and boxer shorts. His fat, long cock was rock hard. Damn if the bastard hadn’t been blessed with a body that was designed to seduce and pleasure. The broad shoulders, the solid chest, the perfect V of his hips, the seriously impressive cock … I hadn’t thought my mouth could get any drier. I’d been wrong.

I closed my eyes, digging deep for some willpower. I heard shuffling sounds and wondered if he was removing his socks or something. I didn’t look. “You really should go.” Nothing. No response, no movements.

I opened my eyes. He still stood there, still staring hard at me. And I found my gaze roaming down his body again.

His cock twitched, tapping his belly. I remembered how it felt to have it filling, stretching, and thrusting inside me. Remembered coming harder than I ever had in my life. And damn if I didn’t want him in me again. Which made me my own worst enemy, really.

It didn’t help that he was so deliciously and blatantly dominant. I wasn’t ashamed to admit I got off a little on that. Having all his alpha energy focused on me was way more than my self-control could bear.

“Come here.”

I jumped at the softly spoken order—and it was very much an order. “Are you just going to overlook the fact that you’re not thinking clearly? Because I can’t, Dane. One of us needs to be the voice of reason.”

“Come here,” he repeated, his voice low and deep and carrying the punch of authority.

“Don’t ignore me. This is serious. You don’t get to be blasé about it.”

“Not going to tell you again, baby girl. Last chance.”

I clenched my fists, feeling a little desperate. Because I knew myself. Knew my resolve would waver if he touched me. No, not waver. Vanish. This need I felt for him … It was too hot. Too basic. Too powerful. I didn’t stand a sliver of a chance against it.

“For fuck’s sake, Dane, listen to me. I don’t know how much you’ve had to drink—”

He clamped his hands around my upper arms and dragged me to him, keeping me on my knees, so that his hard cock then dug into my abdomen. “Yeah, that’s where I want you.” His hands bunched my hair, and he slowly lowered his mouth until it hovered a mere inch above mine. Everything seemed to go still and quiet.

I should protest. Push him away. Something. Anything. But, stupid or not, I wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted to pretend for a little while that he wanted more than just a roll in the sack.

My breathing picked up. So did his. Anticipation wound me tight, making my nerves ragged.

His unblinking gaze dropped to my mouth and flared. “Everywhere we go,” he said, his voice thick with need, “I catch someone staring at your mouth. And I know they’re wondering what it’d be like to sink their teeth into this plump lower lip—I did the exact same thing the first time I saw it.”