Roderick (The Henchmen MC 15) - Page 32

And since sleeping was hard enough not wearing jeans, I opted to wear my gray wifebeater and black shorts that could be called nothing other than, well, booty shorts.

I brushed out my hair, taking a deep breath, and moving out into the bedroom.

Roderick's head lifted from where he was sitting on the left side of the bed, the covers only pulled up to his waist. I moved around to the other side of the bed, feeling his eyes on me, not able to take it anymore. "What?"

"Mami, you thought I was a distraction?" he asked, shaking his head.

"I was anticipating being alone in a hotel room. Or I wouldn't have had half my ass hanging out," I told him as I climbed under the covers.

I couldn't be sure of it, but I could have sworn he said And wouldn't that be a damn shame?

"What's your TV preference for sleep? On or off?"

"Um, either works really. I don't sleep well anyway. But if you like it off, keep it off. I will turn it on after you go to sleep if I am up all night."

"Okay. I have an alarm set for the morning."

"Thanks," I agreed, turning away from him to curl up on my side, feeling the bed move as he slid down to lay flat.

And then the impossible happened.

I fell to sleep.

Quickly.

No fuss.

No tossing.

Just easily.

Like a normal person.

I didn't wake up, in fact, until a few hours later.

In a different position than I had fallen asleep. Which was not unusual.

What was unusual, though, was the fact that I had someone else in the bed.

Someone else who I was now plastered all over.

As in I had my whole front on his whole front, my leg cocked up, my head in his neck, my hand closed in a fist on his shoulder.

And his hands, yeah, they weren't exactly down at his sides either. One was draped across my lower back, dangerously close to the swell of my ass. The other was across my back, his fingers still in the hair at the nape of my neck.

Asleep, though.

Thank God for small blessings.

I didn't move right away, however.

Despite knowing I should have.

It had been so long since I felt the touch of a man. And something deep within me was craving it too much to move away just yet.

So I stayed there, hearing his heartbeat against me, feeling the rise and fall of his steady breathing, the way his hard lines pressed to my much softer ones.

Only when these realizations started stoking a fire in my system did I slowly move, planting my hands on either side of his body, starting to press up.

"You didn't have to move," Roderick's sleep-rough voice said, making me start, looking down to find his eyes a little hooded with sleep. "You were all over until you settled down on me."

"You're not a pillow," I insisted.

"I don't mind," he told me, giving my lower back a little squeeze with his arm. His other hand raised, tucking a few strands of my hair behind my ear, the touch oh so gentle yet again. And damn if it didn't send a tremble through my body. The external kind. The kind he was sure to feel with his body plastered to mine.

His hands stilled, fingers still brushing the side of my jaw. His eyes - sleep suddenly gone - held mine, looking for something. Either he found it - or he didn't - depending on what he was searching for. But his fingers moved, sliding backward, cupping the back of my neck, applying just the barest bit of pressure, waiting for me to make a move, close the distance, give him the green light.

I knew it was a bad idea.

I knew there were about a dozen reasons why I should have simply moved away like I had planned to do.

But I couldn't seem to bring myself to care. Not with his body beneath mine, his hands on me, his eyes getting hooded with his own anticipation.

So I forgot all the reasons as my head lowered, as my lips pressed to his.

He was pliant for a long second, seeing if I would pull away quickly. When I didn't, his hand tightened on the back of my neck as his lips got harder, hungrier, more demanding, making me plant both my knees on the sides of his body.

Unfortunately, the position quite literally opened me up to him. And the thin material of his pajama pants and my glorified panties did nothing to stop his hard cock from pressing into me, stoking the fire burning through my system.

The head rubbed over my clit, making a low, almost pained whimper escape me.

Some sort of deep, rumbling growl moved through him in response, making his body knife upward until he was sitting upright, his arm crushing my body to his as his teeth snagged my lower lip, biting to the point of pain before his tongue moved inside to claim mine.

Tags: Jessica Gadziala Henchmen MC Erotic
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