Bad Wolf (Wild Men 4)
What is he doing? I feel like I’m on fire, even after I withdraw my finger from the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, the velvet of his lips.
“You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, his eyes smoldering. “You should be afraid of me.”
Then he cups my face again and kisses me.
Chapter Twelve
Jesse
Sweet, soft, hot with a taste of strawberries, her lips part under mine. Like candy dipped in hot fudge, sprinkled with almonds… I moan as I deepen the kiss and lick her mouth, desperate for more. It’s as if I’ve been waiting for this kiss all my life. In fact, I can’t remember kissing any other girl. Never wanted to. And now…
Now I can’t get enough of her. I climb over her, pushing her on her back on the bed and crawl over her, lie between her legs. I’m diamond hard, my dick throbbing painfully against the zipper of my jeans, trying to burst out, enter her.
The idea of pushing into her has my hips jerking before I even realize I’m doing it. I grab one of her pretty legs, pull it up to wrap it around my hip and stroke up her thigh, my fingers sliding over silky skin.
Damn, this girl…
Her hands land on my shoulders. She digs her short nails into my flesh, and the pain feels good as I keep kissing her, exploring her mouth with my tongue. She moans, and fuck, my cock twitches, ready to go. Christ, I wanna do things with her I’ve never done before—like lick her all over, kiss her until we both p
ass out from lack of oxygen, hold her… never let her go.
I break the kiss and scramble back, struggling to get my breathing under control.
“Dammit. I didn’t mean to do that.” Liar. Fucking liar. I’ve been dying to do this since I first laid eyes on her.
Her fingertips trail over her reddened lips, her eyes wide. Sprawled on my ratty blankets, one strap of her blouse hanging off her shoulder, she looks like a dream come true.
But a dream, still, and I shouldn’t. Not with her. Because she matters to me, I realize with a jolt. She matters like no other girl before.
I’m so fucked. This wasn’t supposed to happen. If she doesn’t hate me now, she will, and then…
“JJ.” And how can I push her away when she calls me this, when she looks at me like I’m something I’m not?
“Just checking you were okay,” I say gruffly, getting off the bed and running a hand over my shorn hair.
“You were checking.” Her voice drops to a mere whisper, and if I was hoping for sarcasm, I never get it. She only sounds… disappointed.
Then again, that’s what I do. I disappoint people I care for, and what I feel for her is too big for words.
“You seem okay now,” I say and go to stand by the window, looking out at a sliver of cloudy sky and the gray building across the street. “I should get going soon. Don’t wanna be late for work.”
She makes a small sound, and I turn toward her. She’s sitting up, smoothing down her blouse, lifting the strap back into place, and I can’t stop staring at her. She’s so sexy, and she doesn’t seem to even know it. “You don’t start at the café until four.”
Forcing my gaze away, I turn back to the window. I should be irritated that she calls me out on my bluff. But I’m not.
“Still have to go.” I need to do something else first… something that has been bugging me ever since I told her what happened on that street and how I got my scars.
“Where?” She walks without a sound to stand beside me.
“Is that your second question?”
She shakes her head, glares, and I can breathe again. “You’re a bastard.”
“I couldn’t tell you for sure.” I shrug and brace one arm on the wall by the window. “Don’t know who my parents are. It’s possible, I guess.”
“Not funny, JJ.” Back to being pissy. The pressure in my chest releases, and I grin at her. I don’t have to run away. Somehow I’m not ready to give her up—yet—even if I barely have her at all.
“Never said it was.”