Hotshot (The Bennett Brothers 1)

One hand goes to my waist while the other goes to my head, running his fingers through my now shoulder length bob.

“What did you do?” he murmurs against my scalp.

“I cut it, and highlighted.”

“But why?”

“Because I could,” is the only reasoning I give him, not ready to tell him the whole truth, that Sasha’s the reason.

I clasp my arms around him and inhale. His familiar scent fills my nose, and I fight back tears. God, I’ve missed him so much.

His breathing slows down, and he leans back, cupping the back of my head and tilting my face to his. His eyes are stormy but start to clear as he stares into mine. The gorgeous golden hazel that I love begins to shine.

“It’s gorgeous. But, then again, everything about you is gorgeous.”

“Thanks. I was in the mood for a change.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Because I could,” I repeat, and his lip tips up on one side, making my insides tingle.

He leans down and kisses me deeply, his tongue moving against mine until I have no choice but to follow his lead. His hands glide down slowly until they’re both grasping my thighs, and he forces me to wrap them around his hips.

I know he’s moving, but I’m too lost in his kiss to care where he’s taking us. My mouth moves urgently against his, pouring two long weeks of missing him into the kiss. My hands rake up his chest, neck, and face until I feel the stubble and cup his cheeks.

There’s a fierce rumble in his throat that vibrates against my tongue, starting a raging inferno inside. I need him like I’ve never needed him before. Desire, lust, and pure longing take over, and I buck against his groin, feeling his thick hardness through his pants.

It’s my turn to groan because the light friction isn’t enough. I start to grind on him, his grip on my ass tightening to the point of pain. But I don’t care. It’s a pleasurable pain, the kind only he can give me. The kind that shows me I am his and his only.

“Jesus, Bizzy, we need to find a bed,” he says against my lips, but I shake my head, sucking his tongue back into my mouth.

“Here… Now,” I demand, sliding my hand down to grab his cock. “So ready,” I barely get out.

Suddenly, I’m on my back, his mouth gone and his hands ripping my scrub bottoms, panties, and shoes off. I open my eyes, focusing on the ceiling, and realize we never moved. I’m on the kitchen island, but the cold granite barely registers in the heat of my body. I hear the clinking of his belt, his pants hitting the floor, and cry in relief as he thrusts into me.

No foreplay, no petting or teasing, and it turns me on even more.

My head, neck, and back arch up as I reach for him, throwing my arms around his neck. Our mouths crush back together as he surges in and out of me. It doesn’t take long before the coiling starts in my stomach and the tightening at the base of my spine.

“Shaw…” It’s barely a whimper, my orgasm building.

“Go, baby. I’m right here with you.”

He angles my hips and pounds deep, setting off a round of tremors as I moan his name. My body starts to jerk as he moves his head and buries his face into my neck, chanting my name. He pulses inside me, and I clench down, coming again with him.

I hold tight, scared to let go. Our chests move together, fighting to catch our breath as he moves his mouth to my ear, nibbling on my earlobe.

“Welcome to Charlotte,” I say in a rasp.

“The best fucking welcome present I’ve ever had. Christ, I’m an animal.” He lays his forehead against mine.

“My animal.”

“Yours.”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I gathered that.”