Mess Me Up (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 1)

The stupid blanket that was too goddamn hot and thick did.

“Oh, fuck.” I breathed against her lips. “Do you know what you’re doing, sweetheart?”

It was the last chance she would get.

“Of course,” she breathed. “Do you?”

That was the million-dollar question. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. That didn’t mean that I was going to stop.

I had no clue where this would lead after tonight. I had no idea whether it would change the dynamic of our relationship. I had no idea if she wanted a relationship—or if I did for that matter.

Everything was still up in the air…but I knew one thing.

I wanted her. This. Right now.

“Yes,” I said confidently.

I grinned, then reached blindly to the side table so that I could turn on the lamp.

I had to see what I was doing. I felt like it was imperative to how this was about to go for both her and me.

Then my mouth was back on hers, and slowly I started to shove down the blanket that was separating us.

She moved as best she could without taking that perfect mouth from mine, shimmying and shaking as well as giving me her entire body weight as she tried to lift other parts of her body. When I finally had it down from between us, I nearly groaned at the feel of her full, supple body—even in running clothes—against mine.

“Wait.” She breathed, reaching over to do something with her phone. Moments later, the flashlight on her phone was lighting the room, and I could see.

I could also feel her nipples through the thin shirt she wore, and the soft rounded curve of her ass felt even better. My hand squeezed her ass tightly, and she moaned into my mouth, pulling back just far enough that she could latch onto my bottom lip and pull it into her mouth.

I groaned when she sucked on it lightly, my hands tightening on her.

Her ass was so soft. So pliable.

I wanted to bite it.

She let my lip go and reared up, panting.

Both of her fists were planted in my chest, and she was flexing her fingers as she tested the muscles beneath my skin.

“I need your clothes off,” I growled, my eyes still on those lips.

They were puffy and swollen from my kiss, and her face was red along her jaw and cheeks from my beard.

“I should shave,” I said idly, eyeing that red.

I didn’t like that it’d caused her harm—however insignificant it may or may not be.

She narrowed her eyes. “You ever shave that beard, and I’ll never talk to you again.”

My eyebrows drew up in surprise. “You like it?”

Her laugh was husky as she went all the way up, her lower body straddling my hips.

That’s when her eyes widened at the feel of my cock—cramped and uncomfortable in its tight quarters—beneath her.

“I’ve dreamed about your beard,” she whispered, moving her hands to the bottom hem of her shirt and drawing it up slowly.

I nearly groaned when I realized there was a second shirt underneath.

“You’re a tease,” I panted. “Hurry.”

She did, making much shorter work of the second shirt than she did of the first.

“What do I get since I hurried for you?” she asked teasingly.

I did a sit up and reached for her bra at the same time, yanking the sports bra up so that her beautiful breasts were bared to my gaze.

They were everything that I’d ever imagined.

Soft, full, round and perky.

Her nipples were a dusky brown, several shades darker than her tanned skin.

She had the sweetest little nipples I’d ever seen, and I wanted to devour them for the rest of my life.

I groaned and leaned forward, capturing one in my mouth while my other hand went to the other.

The gasp that left her lips was nothing short of volatile, as if any second she’d orgasm just from my tongue and lips on her nipple alone.

“I’ve wanted this,” she sighed. “Since the first time I saw you on the television screen.”

I would’ve smiled had my lips not already been busy.

Her hands had found their way into my hair—what little of it there was—and started to pull.

“Other one,” she pleaded.

Grinning, I obliged her request and switched to the other lonely nipple, moving my fingers to the original one to keep the peak I’d created hard and tight.

She breathed out shakily, her breath fanning my face, and said two words. “Want you.”

My free hand went to her shorts, and I started to shove them down her hips, but they weren’t budging with the position we were in.

Rolling over swiftly so that she now lay on the bed, I dropped her nipple and refocused on her shorts, pulling them off her—or at least trying to.

The goddamn things were thick and tight, molding to her body perfectly.

“They’re running shorts, Rome. I wear them all the time since I do a lot of walking.” She laughed as she started to shimmy them down her legs. “They’re meant to stay in place.”