Burgess was right, the light-headedness was stealing over her, the lowest, most sensitive regions of her stomach braiding tight, loosening, and braiding again. She started to rut her hips up and back in his lap, making him growl into the nape of her neck, release hitting her with a knockout blow, and she bore down, tiny muscles clenching, her body trembling like the last leaf on a tree in the winter... and her body slumped, turned to jelly, but only for a moment to enjoy the replete sensation, the total lack of tension, but then she tightened up again, waiting for Burgess to follow her.
He didn’t.
Gently, he set Tallulah back on her feet, kissing her shoulder while pulling her panties back up and securing the hem of the dress over her backside.
“What... about you?” she whispered, still winded. Confusion beginning to creep in.
“Me?” He turned her around, framing her jaw and lifting it soshe could see the lust-laced regret in his eyes, traces of the hurt she’d inflicted by trying to eradicate him. “I don’t want you out of my system.” He kissed her hard, once, twice, lingering the second time. “You’re staying there forever. Period.” She reached for him, but he backed up out of her reach, fastening his erection back into his pants with a sharp hiss. “But if you want me out of yours? You’re welcome to try again tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Burgess.”
He gave her a final pained look, heavy with regret and unsatisfied hunger, before continuing down the path. “Good night, Tallulah.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Burgess paced in hotel reception, the humidity already causing him to sweat through his shirt. They’d been told to meet the zip-lining instructor here at 6:00a.m.sharp, but apparently, he was the only one with a functioning watch. Neither the instructor nor Tallulah had arrived yet.
And he needed to get a handle on his dark mood real quick or this whole day, this finite chunk of time he’d been given to win back Tallulah, would be a waste. But excuse the hell out of him if being chipper was a challenge the morning after the love of his life had tried to fuck him out of her system. While she’d been attempting to purge him, he’d been so completely lost in the feel of her body, the scent of her skin, the hitch in her voice, he couldn’t see straight. On the verge of the most blinding orgasm of his life... and he’d denied himself the relief his body was still screaming for twelve hours later.
His blue balls were pitch-black at this stage.
So, yeah. He wasn’t so much pacing as he was stomping and occasionally shooting a murderous glance at the front desk guy.
A thought occurred to him and ceased his progress across the polished floor.
Was she backing out?
What if she’d decided not to go zip-lining and cliff diving because he would be there?
Maybe last night, after he’d left, Josephine had spilled thebeans that Tallulah and Burgess were the only two participants and she’d balked, not wanting to be alone with him.
Without a second thought, Burgess started walking in the direction of her room. If she didn’t want to spend the day with him, he’d be disappointed—and that was an understatement. But there was no way he’d let Tallulah miss her adventures because of him. Not happening. She’d worked too hard to regain the confidence to try new things and he wasn’t going to be the cause of her taking a step backward. It would kill him to give up the chance to have her to himself all day, but denying her the experiences would be worse.
Burgess reached her door and stood there quietly, listening to definite movement on the other side. She was awake, at least. Maybe just running behind? He raised his hand to knock and dropped it, grimacing at the sweat bleeding through the shirt at the center of his pecs. He looked like he’d just exited the ice after the third period.
Take your shirt off.
It had worked before, right?
Hands on hips, Burgess stepped back from the door and tipped his head back, wondering how his life had come to this. Once again, he felt like one of the Orgasm Donors, taking his shirt off to flex for a woman. He couldn’t deny that stripping from the waist up had worked pretty damn well the first time around, however.
Burgess ran five quick fingers through his hair, gripped the back of his T-shirt collar and pulled—just as the door of Tallulah’s room opened. When Burgess heard the quiet click of the door unlocking and the whoosh of it opening wide, he inwardly sighed, but it was too late to stop. And frankly, when the garment no longer obstructed his view, the mesmerized expression on Tallulah’s face told him he’d done the right thing by getting half naked.
“Good morning,” he said gruffly, his balls giving a hard tug at the sight of her in ripped jean shorts and a bright yellow bikini top, sandals. Granted, she had a loose white tank top over the top of the bathing suit, but the cover-up might as well have been invisible for all the attention he paid it. In an instant, his goal in life was to see Tallulah in that yellow fucking bikini.
“Good m-morning,” she said, staring dazedly at his bare torso, then down at the floor, back at his abdomen, up at the ceiling, before giving up and running the length of him, throat to happy trail. “Why are you taking your clothes off outside my room? If beefcake was on the room service menu, I didn’t order it.”
It physically hurt to laugh at one of her jokes, because it had been so long, but he did, the gruff boom bouncing off the stone facade of the building. “Oh, you should. This place is known for having the best beefcake in town.”
She sniffed. “I don’t like meat, remember?”
“You loved it last night.”
Twin spots of color appeared on her cheeks, her attention—if he wasn’t mistaken—dropping to his crotch, before zipping back upward. “If this is an indication of how the day is going to go, I think it’s best if I skip.”
Tallulah took a step backward, retreating into her room, and the invisible hand of panic wrapped around his jugular, causing him to lunge forward involuntarily, catching the door before she could close it. The move brought them inches apart and for a moment, all he could do was marvel over her skin in the light of the sunrise, the luscious shape of her mouth and the rich brown of her eyes.God, I fucking miss you, Tallulah.
He opened his mouth to apologize for starting off on the wrong foot. In his defense, there were yellow bikini strings sticking out of her denim waistband and they’d pureed his brain. But before he could speak a word, his focus was drawn to the unmadebed—and that’s when he saw the royal blue balled-up sweatshirt. His Bearcats sweatshirt.