Bad Habit (Bad Love 1) - Page 27
“Tell me, Briar. What was your plan?” I ask, leaning over her.
She lies there, and with the setting sun making her hair appear more golden than blonde, those faint freckles across her nose, and cheeks rosy from the sun, she looks even more innocent than usual. She shakes her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Your plan. With Adrian?” Don’t play dumb, baby.
“He wasn’t being serious.”
“Bullshit,” I say, trailing my hand up her soft thigh. Higher, higher, higher. “Were you going to let him touch this?” I grip her between her legs through her bathing suit bottoms, and she gasps.
“Huh? Were you going to let him touch your pussy?”
“No,” she breathes, as the flat of my fingers start to rub up and down.
“Because he would, you know. He’d fuck you in a heartbeat if given half the chance.”
“You’re such a hypocrite,” she says, eyes closing in pleasure. “You can be all over Whitley, but I can’t kiss anyone?”
“Fuck Whitley. I don’t want her.” I want you. I don’t say it out loud, but the insinuation is clear.
She pushes into my hand, and I feel her wetness through the fabric of her bathing suit.
“Who are you wet for, baby girl? Is it for him? Or me?”
Briar doesn’t answer, too focused on trying to close her legs around my hand to stop my movements. Her eyes dart around, making sure we don’t have any company. The sun is going down, so there are people only feet away, packing up for the day.
“No one can see you,” I say, covering her body with mine. “But even if they could…let them watch.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she says on a gasp, but she parts her legs for me anyway, and I rub her clit with the heel of my palm at the same time that I pull her bathing suit top to the side with my teeth. I suck the soft flesh into my mouth, leaving my mark on her.
“You wanted to play big girl games, Briar. Now, I’m going to treat you like a big girl.”
Briar’s head drops back, exposing her slender throat. A lone freckle where her neck meets her shoulder catches my eye, and without thinking twice, I bite into her. Hard.
She shrieks in pain before I feel her entire body tense up, and her knees clamp shut, effectively trapping my hand between her legs. Once she starts to shudder and shake, I realize she wasn’t screaming in pain. She was screaming from pleasure.
Baby girl likes it rough.
“Did you really just come?” I ask wryly.
She throws an arm over to shield her face and rolls away from me.
“Fuck you.”
“Why, so you can come on my cock this time?”
“You’re disgusting. Take me home.”
“How long has it been, Bry? You must be going through quite the dry spell to get off so easily. Or is it just me that has that effect on you?”
I’m just saying things to get under her skin at this point. Getting a rise out of her is my newest addiction. It’s better than cocaine. Briar sits up and jumps down from the tailgate, then stomps around to the front of the truck. She hops into the passenger seat and slams the door.
I decide to let her stew in her post-orgasmic bliss-slash-guilt while I set the Jet Ski up onto the trailer. It takes a while, and by the time I get back, the sun has completely set.
Briar sits in the front seat, chipping away at her white nail polish. She doesn’t glance my way when I open the door. Not even when I start the truck. And not even when we pull up to her house.
“You wanna tell me why I’m the one with blue balls and you’re giving the silent treatment?” It was a joke, but apparently the wrong thing to say, because when she looks up at me, her eyes are shining with unshed tears.
“Why do you do this to me?”
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