Up to Me (The Bad Boys 2)

Starting just to the side of my knee, he licks the liquor from the inside of my leg all the way up to the bend at my thigh.  He traces the crease there, coming dangerously close to the throbbing that never seems to cease when he’s around.  But he stops just shy of it, just shy enough to make me feel like screaming.  He laps his way up my stomach to my nipple, where he licks and sucks until every drop of alcohol is in his mouth.

Still not laying a hand on me, Cash reaches to my side and pours another shot.  He hands it to me. “Again.”

I repeat the steps, only this time Jack dribbles from my chin straight down the center of my chest, between my breasts and over my stomach.

The first drop that slides through the short hair between my legs hits my hot, sensitive flesh like a tingle of electricity.  I let the rest of the liquid flow past my lips, hyper aware of the stream that’s pouring between my legs.

Reaching out with his hand, Cash moves one finger between my legs, wetting it in the whiskey that’s collecting there. His eyes rise to mine as he slips that finger into his mouth.

“Mmm, that’s good,” he purrs.  He bends his head and kisses the inside of my thigh.  “But not nearly as good as you.”  With one long stroke, he licks the opening between my legs. “I didn’t even want to think about never tasting you again,” he whispers. His mouth is so close to my wet body, I can feel his warm breath.  “Oh, God! The way you taste…”

Planting his hands on my inner thighs, Cash pushes them further apart and presses his mouth against me. With one quick thrust, his tongue is inside.  If I were standing I would collapse. The whiskey was like electricity, but this…this is like lightning.

I reach out and thread my fingers into his short hair, holding him to me as he moves his lips and tongue, sucking and licking and penetrating me over and over again.

I’m straining against him, moving my hips against his face.  The familiar aching tension is building within me when he suddenly stops.

I could cry. Or scream.

“Not yet, baby,” he says softly, putting his hand in the center of my chest and pushing.  I turn and lie back on the bar.  Cash hops up onto it, settling between my legs.  “I want you coming on me, while I’m filling you up, stretching you tight.”

He bends each of my knees until my feet are flat on the bar and then I feel his tongue again, probing me, making hot circles over the most sensitive parts, giving me stabbing thrusts in the others. He works first one, then two fingers into me, crooking them and rubbing me from the inside as he pulls them in and out of me.

Within seconds, I’m right back where I was—riding the cusp of an impending orgasm.

Again, he stops.  Just before I tip over the edge. My breathing is ragged and so is his as he moves forward, scooting his knees under my hips and grabbing my arms to pull me up onto him, my legs on the outside of his.

Like two pieces of a perfectly engineered puzzle, I fit perfectly against him, his hard length sliding between my folds, caressing me, teasing my opening.  He crushes my hips to his, reaching down between us to move his still wet fingers over me.

“What would you say if I told you they could see us?” he says, tipping his head to the side, toward the bank of glass to my left.  My heart hammers in my chest.  “What if I told you the mirror is only effective when the lights are on up here?  What if I told you they could see us if they bothered to look up?  Would that turn you on?”  He pushes his fingers inside me and I feel my body squeeze them, pulling at them, craving the penetration.  “Oooo, you like that, don’t you?  You like the thought of maybe getting caught, of maybe being seen, don’t you?”

With his hands on my hips, he holds me still, his head poised right at my entrance.  “Tell me you like it,” he instructs.

Breathing heavily, nearly ready to beg him, I admit the excitement that he already knows I feel.  “I like it.”

Sharply, he pulls me down and flexes his hips, thrusting into me.  I can’t stop the cry of pure pleasure that bursts from my lips.  “How would you feel about them seeing your beautiful body?  Them seeing me licking you and touching you?”  As if to make his point, Cash pulls my nipple into his mouth and sucks.  Hard.

I slide my fingers through his hair and clench them, tugging him closer to me as he urges my body into a rhythm.

“Do you like the thought of someone watching you ride me?  Watching you slide up and down on me?  Watching your face when you come for me?  Watching your mouth move as you say my name, over and over again?”

His words!  Damn him and his words!  They make me forget that I care about anything.  I can’t think. I can only feel—feel his fingers biting into my hips, feel his mouth at my chin, his lips at my throat, his teeth at my nipple, feel his breath, feel his body driving into mine.

“You like that, don’t you, baby?  You like for me to talk to you, to make you tell me things?”

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly.

He braces my hands on his chest as he leans back, flexing his hips beneath me as I ride him, allowing my body to slide down even further over his.

“Oh, damn!  So deep,” he moans.

I rise up and fall down on him, feeling each penetration pounding through me.  Cash leans back on one elbow and brings his other hand between us to touch me.  With his thumb, he rubs me.  The air leaves the room and I can’t breathe.  I’m panting, saying things, all sorts of things. I don’t even know what kinds of things, but I know they’re dirty things and I know Cash loves it.

“I know that feels good. I can feel you sucking at me, getting tighter.  So. Tight,” he breathes.  “Tell me you like it.”

“Oh God, I love it.”

“Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it.”

“I want,” I begin, unable even to finish the thought.

“Say it, baby.  Tell me.”

“I don’t want you to stop.  I want you to make me come.”

Cash groans and moves his fingers faster, in small tight circles, each stroke ratcheting my body up higher and higher.

“You want me to make you come?  I’ll make you come so hard, you can’t say anything but my name,” he forces out through gritted teeth.

Cash sits up suddenly, rolling forward and sliding me beneath him.  He grabs one of my legs behind the knee and pushes it up against my chest.  Forcefully, he pushes into me.  Once, twice and then I’m exploding.

Spasms wrack my entire body, bringing with them a cascade of sensation—wave after wave of it—that I’ve never before experienced.  I can’t open my eyes. I can’t find my breath. I can’t move. I can only feel as I hear myself saying Cash’s name.  Over and over and over again.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Cash

Olivia is sprawled out on top of me.  I rolled us over shortly after we caught our breath so I wouldn’t crush her. I’m sure, to her, I feel like I weigh a ton.  Not so at all with her.  If it weren’t for her warmth, I’d almost forget she was there. She’s light as a feather.

As she has a habit of doing, she’s tracing my tattoo. She sighs.