First Comes Loathe (Blue Collar Bensons 1) - Page 85

Could he do it? Could he ignore his instinct to wait for the other shoe to drop? Would he be able to hear her phone ring and not assume it was Hollywood calling her back? And could he believe she would say no if they did call?

I’m not sure I can.

But she wasn’t asking for a guarantee. She hadn’t promised him forever. Just a chance at something.

So he said the only thing he could offer her at that moment. “I’ll try.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MICKIE BLEW OUT a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Those two simple words meant more to her than the awards she’d won or the money she’d earned. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’m told I’m less of an asshole when you’re around. Something about you making me laugh. I don’t know.” He winked.

A delighted laugh bubbled out of her. “Ronnie may have mentioned something like that to me as well.”

He dipped his fingertips into the warm water, trailing them through the bubbles. Her body reacted immediately as if he’d stroked her skin instead of the lucky bubbles. Despite the heat of the water, her nipples pebbled, and her pussy clenched in need. It’d been too many days since they’d been together. She’d gotten spoiled by his consistent touch and craved it in its absence.

“I like you too, Mickie,” he said, joking gone as their gazes met. “I can’t promise anything. I’ve got issues, but I like us together. It’s felt wrong the past few days. Not seeing you, eating with you, laughing with you, fucking you.”

She inhaled a sharp breath. “I know.” God, did she know. “I’ve been off, too. I’ve missed you. A lot. Maybe too much,” she said as heat rushed to her face.

He nodded. “Me too.”

The glow from the candles flickered off his tanned skin, accentuating the dark hair of his beard and giving him a dangerous look. He tilted his head, studying her, and instead of feeling self-conscious, her desire for him intensified. God, one heated look, and she was ready to beg him to ravage her.

“Now what?” she asked, hearing the invitation in her words.

“What do you want?” the rough timbre of his voice stroked over her nerve endings, making her shiver despite the hot bath. That voice was pure sex, promising the dark pleasures she loved, but in a way she’d not only remember in the morning but revel in instead of regret. Maybe it was foolish, especially since he’d told her she didn’t have his full trust, but she trusted him. Trusted him to keep her secrets. Keep her identity and body safe while sending her to new heights.

What remained to be discovered was whether she could trust her heart with him. Though part of her wanted to hand it over on a silver platter, she’d be wise to keep it protected for the time being.

“I want you to touch me,” she whispered, because the moment seemed to call for quiet words.

A wicked grin curled his lips. He stood, then slowly removed his jacket. After tossing it on the closed toilet lid he seared her with a hot-as-fuck stare. The plain black T-shirt he wore clung to his chest and arms.

Her mouth watered at the thought of running her tongue across his pecs or the ink that decorated them.

“Touch you, huh?” He slid off the ledge of the tub, coming to kneel beside it as he slid his hand deep into the water.

She sucked in a sharp breath as his wide palm splayed over her stomach beneath the surface of the water.

“Any particular place you’d like my hands?”

Her eyes fluttered, wanting to close, but she fought it, unwilling to miss any of the moment. “Y-yes.”

She spread her legs and tilted her pelvis, trying to bring his hand closer to where she needed him most.

“Oh,” he said, that grin growing even more devilish. “Here?” His hand closed over her upper thigh. He gave a squeeze.

Even as her muscles jumped under his touch, Mickie couldn’t help the little growl of frustration. It made Keith laugh.

“No?” He slid down to her bent knee and tickled the sensitive skin behind it, making her squirm. Water sloshed up the sides of the tub. “How about here?” Each time he spoke, he moved his face closer. His lips were mere inches away from hers. A minty puff of air wafted across her face. “Not there either, huh?” he asked when she narrowed her eyes.

The man was having way too much fun torturing her. She grabbed his hand and, with another low rumble, placed it between her legs.

“Ohhhh,” he said as though the light bulb had just gone off and he wasn’t playing with her. “Here?” With light touches, he teased the opening of her pussy, making her squirm and whimper with need.

It felt so damn good, yet not nearly enough. The teasing touch only made her crave to be filled by him.

Tags: Lilly Atlas Blue Collar Bensons Romance
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