McCoy (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 3)

And fuck if the scoop neck of her tee didn't fall as she bent over, giving me a hint of the swells of her breasts beneath.

Reaching up, I rubbed my hands roughly against my eyes as if it was possible to scrub the image out of my brain.

"Damn it, Franklin, I am looking," she grumbled, making me look again, finding her back on her feet, looking behind couch cushions then in the bags that Ayanna had brought that no one had organized yet. "You're going to make that nasty ass old lady across the hall come banging again," she added as if the cat understood what she was saying. "Shush," she demanded, stopping to look at him again. "Hm."

"Hm, what?"

"He's screaming at you," she said, coming around the coffee table to look down at me on the mattress. "Do you feel it?" she asked, crouching down to feel around at the sheets at the sides of my body.

Oh, I was feeling something alright. But definitely not what she was talking about.

"We hear you," she hissed at the cat. "We're looking. Well, I am looking. McCoy is just looking at me like I have three heads," she grumbled as she reached under my pillows.

But, well, the air mattress wasn't like a normal mattress. It didn't distribute weight like she was used to. Which meant her arm sank in and her upper half crashed down on me.

Both of our breaths rushed out of us at the touch. And through Shy's body and into mine was a distinct shiver that made it clear that she'd absolutely been avoiding me since that little scene in the kitchen because she was attracted to me, not because she didn't know how to let me down easy.

I knew it was a bad idea, that we were trapped together for the time being, and I didn't need to be making it difficult for either of us. But there was no stopping my hands as they moved out, as they went around her, feeling the warmth of her skin through her clothes.

Shy pressed up as best she could on the wobbly surface of the mattress, looking down at me with heated eyes and parted lips.

That was all I needed to see.

Anchoring her to me, I rolled, flipping her onto her back, and pressing down on top of her as my lips crashed down on hers.

A low, throaty moan escaped her at the contact as her hands slid tentatively up my arms, careful to tease around the bullet wound, before wrapping both of them around the back of my neck, holding me against her as I deepened the kiss, as my teeth nipped her plump lower lip until she gasped, giving me the opening to slip my tongue in to claim hers.

Another shiver moved through her as her legs slid under mine, spreading, wrapping me up.

A whimper escaped her as she opened herself up to me, and I shifted my hips against her, letting her feel the thick, straining proof of my need.

Shy's nails dug into the skin of my back as her hips raised to meet my cock, wiggling against me, as needy as I felt at that moment.

Carefully balancing my weight on one arm, my hand slipped between us, sliding under the hem of her shirt, then pressing flat against her warm, soft skin of her hip, squeezing for a second before moving upward, exploring the feel of her stomach before finding the swell of her breast, and covering it, squeezing.

A moan moved through Shy, muffled by my lips on hers as her hips jerked upward against me, grinning against my cock, which only made her let out another moan as my fingers went to the budding peak of her nipple, moving around it in circles until it was a tight peak, then rolling it, pinching ever so slightly.

She rewarded me with her hands sinking into my ass, holding my lower half against her as she started to grind against me, driving herself up, trying to ease the ache inside.

My teeth nipped her lower lip as my hips ground down against her, getting a deep, loud groan from her as her hips started to move more quickly, as her hands raked up and down my back, as her face buried in my neck as we continued to move against each other.

Her body was taut as a string under mine as she got closer and closer to that edge.

"Come, baby," I demanded in her ear as she whimpered, as her breathing got shallow and quick, as her hips writhed.

"I..." she started, and I knew what she was going to say.

I'm going to come.

Except she wasn't.

Because her bedroom door creaked open.

And we flew away from each other like someone had scalded us.

Shy slammed down on the floor next to the air mattress, barely holding in a whimper. And I wasn't sure if it was because she'd hurt herself with an awkward landing, or because the need between her thighs was left unmet.