“If that’s what it takes for you to look out for my friend,” she whispers, grabs my hand and starts dragging me away from the storeroom, to a set of stairs.

What the hell?

“Come on,” she says. “Fewer people upstairs.”

I wish I’d thought about that earlier. The steps are hell on my knee, though, and I tug on her hand.

“Slow down, girl.”

She doesn’t. “Aren’t you in a hurry to collect your fee?” she asks sweetly, a bite in her voice.

“About that…” I grunt as we reach the top step, hot needles going through my knee, and she pulls me down a hallway without a pause. “Would you just wait a fucking minute?”

“I can’t.” She draws me inside a room—a bathroom I belatedly realize when she switches on the light—and tugs impatiently until I’m inside, so she can close the door. “I’ll lose my nerve.”

Damn, I still haven’t managed to sit down after the flashback, I feel sick and my whole damn body hurts. And I’m hard, harder than I’ve been in what feels like years, my brain a jumble of memories, thoughts and need.

Still, I try. “Look—”

“You do remember who I am, right?”

Ah fuck. “Yeah, Gigi, of course I do. But—”

“Why did your brother call you that other name, the first night? Fen?”

Holy shit, we’re doing this now?

“Fenris,” I mutter. “That was the family name of my adopted father. I kept it.”

Her eyes narrow. “Fenris?”

I stare back at her defiantly. I’m drunk—on adrenaline, booze and her smell, and have no intention of talking more about the topic.

“Fen,” she whispers.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sure, Rett.” She pushes me lightly back until the wall stops me, and puts her hands on my belt buckle. “This what you wanted?”

Her fingers brush over my hard-on, trapped inside the denim, and I hiss, sparks of pleasure shooting through my dick, jolting me.

She unbuckles my belt, unbuttons my jeans, and I try to find words, to tell her to stop, but they don’t come. Her fingers skim over my bare stomach, under my sweater, and I swear. Every little touch brands my skin, sends heat pooling in my gut.

Her long lashes are lowered, her attention on undoing the last of the buttons, her cheekbones are rosy, the valley between her tits dark and inviting. Sweet, she’s all I can smell, all I can sense, all I fucking want.

She glances up, the color on her cheeks deepening, and takes a deep breath, like a diver about to plunge into the sea, and starts to go down on her knees.

I grab her under her arms, pull her up and crush my mouth to hers.

Her lips taste of strawberry lipstick and soda, and they part on a gasp when my tongue traces them. My hands tighten on her sides as I really taste her for the first time, stroking her tongue with mine, sucking her lower lip between my teeth.

Still sweet, but also hot, subtly spicy like, I dunno, white pepper and cinnamon and sexy girl. Her taste goes straight to my dick, and I haul her against me, desperate for more.

Her hands come up to my shoulders, holding on tight as I eat up her mouth, licking inside it, needing to feel more of her, needing her naked, rubbing all along my body.

Needing to be inside her, deep, mark her so that she’s mine for everyone to see.

Fuck.

Tags: Jo Raven Wild Men Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net