Part 9 (1/2)

”Slow and easy, baby.” Flas.h.i.+ng her a triumphant smile, I open the door and take her hand, pulling her inside. The bag goes flying onto a nearby table, the key card dropped onto the floor as I grab hold of Rose by her slender waist and pull her in to me, our chests meeting, legs tangling. We eye each other, breaths mingling, hearts thumping in time. Adrenaline pours through me as I cup her face with one hand and take her lips with mine.

I consume her and she consumes me right back, our mouths wide, our tongues dancing. She slides her leg up, close to my hip, and it's like she's trying to climb me. I break the kiss first and she nips at my chin, the sting of her sharp teeth making me wince.

”Careful,” I murmur.

She smiles, nuzzling my cheek with hers. ”I want you.”

”Then get on your knees,” I command, dying to see how fast she'll agree, but preparing for a fight.

Surprisingly enough, she doesn't fight. She falls to her knees without hesitation. Her hands go to the waistband of my jeans to undo the snap before she tugs down the zipper, spreading the fly open to reveal my black boxer briefs. My c.o.c.k strains against the thin cotton and she smiles, drawing her index finger along the length of my d.i.c.k, making it twitch.

”I owe you, don't I?” she asks as she tilts her head back, the sultry expression on her pretty face just about doing me in.

What is it about this woman? I should be casing her room for jewelry. Normally I would be. That d.a.m.n Poppy Necklace is here. I can feel it. At the very least, I should be searching for it. f.u.c.k her hard, wait till she falls asleep, and then go on the hunt.

But that's the last thing I want to do. Oh, I definitely plan on f.u.c.king her hard. Again and again, until the both of us fall asleep. I feel anything but normal in the presence of Rose Fowler.

And that should scare the ever-loving f.u.c.k out of me.

She's also talking about owing me and she's the last person to be in debt to me. No one is in debt to me. More like I'm in debt to everyone else.

”You owe me for what?” I hold my breath as her fingers curl around the band of my underwear, her fingertips brus.h.i.+ng against my stomach, making the muscles there flinch.

Her lips curve. ”For last night.”

Not that I'm keeping count of o.r.g.a.s.ms or anything, but hey. I'm not about to refuse a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b. ”Take your clothes off first.”

She releases her hold on my underwear and I feel the loss of her touch like a physical blow. ”You want me naked?”

Always. Like she has to ask? I'd keep her locked up and naked in this hotel room for days if she'd let me. ”Definitely.”

Standing, she tugs her s.h.i.+rt off, then undoes the clasp on her bra before she whips that off too. One shove and her jeans and panties are sliding down her legs, until finally she's standing before me with that perfect little body, completely bare.

”Your turn,” she says, her voice raspy as she carefully settles back onto her knees, resuming the position like a good little girl. Her eyes are trained on me as I pull off my s.h.i.+rt, then shove my underwear and jeans down my legs until I'm kicking them off along with my shoes. Until I'm just as naked as she is, on display and ... feeling oddly vulnerable.

She stares at my c.o.c.k, her eyes wide, her lips parted. Reaching out, she draws her index finger down the length, along my b.a.l.l.s, making me s.h.i.+ver. I'm hard as a rock, my c.o.c.k arcing toward my stomach and already leaking pre-come. I'm dying to feel her mouth on me, her hands ...

And then she's there, her mouth on my skin. Soft and warm and damp, her lips blazing a trail from my hip to my stomach, her fingers going around the base of my erection, gripping me firmly. My breath stalls in my throat as I watch her, her long hair falling around her face, tickling my c.o.c.k, hiding all the good action from view.

Since I'm only a man, I reach out and brush her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear so I can watch. Rose sends me a knowing smile before she darts out her tongue and traces just the head of my c.o.c.k, circling it, flicking at the flared ridge.

Driving me out of my f.u.c.king mind.

She's putting on a show just for me and I'm her captive audience. I can't tear my gaze away as she strokes and licks, alternating between the two, teasing me with those glossy pink lips and that talented long tongue. Until finally, finally she purses her perfect lips at the tip, drawing my c.o.c.k into her mouth deep. Deeper. She closes her eyes and relaxes her throat, taking me just about as far as I can get, and the guttural groan that rips from inside me expresses my pleasure at what she's doing more than anything else I could say or do.

Holy h.e.l.l, her mouth is like magic. I brace myself, tensing my muscles so I don't collapse as I slowly start to move my hips, adjusting my grip on her hair so I'm holding it like a ponytail away from her face. She bobs on my c.o.c.k, up and down, in and out of the warm cavern of her mouth, and when she lifts her honeyed gaze to mine, I'm f.u.c.king lost.

The o.r.g.a.s.m barrels down upon me like a d.a.m.n freight train. Like every cliche you've ever heard describing an o.r.g.a.s.m, that's what I'm feeling. The wave. The warmth, the tingling at my spine, the heat in my b.a.l.l.s, the tightening of my sac. I've got it all going on and then some and I f.u.c.k her mouth, thrusting hard and deep, the vibrations of her moan making my entire body s.h.i.+ver and shake.

”I'm gonna come,” I tell her through gritted teeth, wanting to give her the warning in plenty of time, in case she wants to pull away. Girls don't usually want to swallow. I get it. I've never particularly gotten off on it, either. I'm more of a visual type, so I prefer ...

I tear my c.o.c.k out of her mouth, a reluctant gesture that has her pouting at me. ”I wanted to swallow,” she says, and a fresh wave of arousal takes over me at her words.

This girl is a constant surprise. She goes against every stereotype I've projected upon her and I love it.

”I want to see it,” I tell her as I wrap my fingers around my c.o.c.k and start to stroke. She watches in fascination as I increase my pace, my blood rus.h.i.+ng, my ears roaring. ”Part your lips, baby.”

She does as I say and I lean toward her, my c.o.c.k practically touching her mouth. That's all it takes. With an agonized groan I'm coming, spurting s.e.m.e.n onto her lips, little drops of white even hitting her tongue.

It's the hottest thing I think I've ever witnessed.

Rose remains in place until the very last drop is squeezed out of my d.i.c.k and I slump against the wall, panting for breath like I've run fifty miles, my skin covered in sweat, my eyes closing for only a brief moment because I don't want to miss a thing. Even after that major o.r.g.a.s.m, my c.o.c.k is still semi-hard and I know it won't be a problem getting it up so I can actually f.u.c.k her.

And I definitely plan on f.u.c.king her.

Opening my eyes, I watch in disbelief as Rose licks and then smacks her lips together, like she just indulged in the tastiest treat ever. She glances down, sees the splatter of come on her t.i.ts, and wipes it away with her fingertips just before she sinks them into her mouth.

”Jesus,” I mutter, making her laugh.

”Are we even, then?” she asks huskily after she removes her fingers from her swollen mouth.

”I didn't realize this was a contest.” I watch as she gets to her feet and walks away, heading toward the bathroom. The sway of her hips, that beautiful a.s.s-I can't stop staring. She doesn't shut the bathroom door, just yanks a tissue out of the box near the sink and dabs at her chest, cleaning up the mess I made.

The possessive surge that moves through me is foreign. I don't think of women as mine. I definitely don't take pride in marking them with my come like some sort of rutting animal. So what the h.e.l.l?

”It isn't a contest.” She exits the bathroom, coming to stand before me, gorgeous in her nude state. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s sway when she walks, the nipples hard and this delicious rosy pink that makes my mouth water. She's not shy, not hiding or worried about imperfections or weight or whatever else women tend to freak out over. Her confidence is s.e.xy.

”Then why did you ask if we're even?”

”Because I never want to owe you a thing, Caden.” She brings herself closer to me, my erect c.o.c.k rising between us as she rests her hands on my shoulders. ”We need to be equals in this ... whatever it is we're doing.” She runs her hands down my chest, her gentle touch sending a wave of gooseflesh over my skin, and the shudder that escapes me can't be contained.

I couldn't agree more with what she says. Reaching out, I thread my fingers in her hair, give it a tug, and pull her in. ”You need a definition?” It's best we don't. I've never defined any of my so-called relations.h.i.+ps. It's easier that way.

Easier for me to walk away. And I'm going to walk away from Rose. I have to.

She slowly shakes her head, my grip on her hair not lessening, the intensity of her stare not lessening, either. Our breaths are rapid; my heart beats wildly and I'm guessing hers does too. ”I don't like you,” she murmurs. ”You drive me crazy.”

The chuckle that escapes can't be helped. I've never been told by a woman that she doesn't like me while we're standing together naked, so this is a first. ”You drive me crazy, too,” I answer, not bothering to confirm whether I like her or not.

Does that really matter? We're naked together. She just sucked my d.i.c.k into her mouth and made me come. I'm about to f.u.c.k her until she comes her brains out. Do I really care if she likes me? Or if I like her?

Heartless motherf.u.c.ker, yes, you do actually like her. And you want her to like you, too.

I also want her. I'm drawn to her despite myself. Falling for a woman like Rose would be a huge mistake. I could put everything at risk.