Page 58 of The Best Kind of Bad

This man.

He works me into an absolute fever, until I burning up with lust, and then murmurs words so sweet and heavy I’m stunned.

Breathless.

It feels dangerous. Like we’re about to drop off into something vast and bottomless.

I don’t know what’s on the other end. And that’s terrifying.

And exciting.

He pulls my car right up to the barn. I’m glued to the seat. Dazed. Limbs like jelly.

I’m not sure my knees want to support me right now, which is fine, because Dusty’s decided to toss me over his shoulder.

He’s a big guy. Broad-shouldered and tall. I’m not petite, but with a man like him, I don’t doubt for a second that he can handle my weight.

But still, I protest. “Judas, Dusty. Put me down.”

He laughs, easily swinging the car door shut. “Nah. Don’t think I want to.”

“What if Sienna saw us?”

He’s got his big hand braced on my upper thigh. “She’s at a friend’s tonight.”

Okay, then. He’s thought of everything.

I cross my arms, resting my chin on my palm. From this angle, I have a pretty good view of his butt as he walks us inside, swinging the door shut behind him.

His hand rises higher, squeezing my ass. “Nothing to add?”

“I’m saving my energy.”

He gives me a light slap. “Good girl.”

The apartment is cast in the lingering rays of the sunset. Orange and pink light splash across every surface. He turns towards the stairs, shoulders shifting smoothly under me as we ascend.

These casual displays of strength, of power, are lighting me up. Making my skin supersensitive to every touch. Hungry for more.

His room is at the end of a short hallway. He pushes the door open and swings it shut behind us before finally setting me down in front of the bed. Moving quickly, that cheeky mouth quiet for once, he pulls my t-shirt over my head. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips and he runs his fingers over my bra. It’s nothing fancy. Thin straps, ribbed fabric. The only thing vaguely special about it is that the panties happen to match. A fact he quickly discovers when he drags my jeans off me. But his eyes are intent and he's running his fingers over the sides of my panties like he’s never seen anything like it. “So fucking sexy.”

I shiver at his touch. “I’m a hot mess.”

“Hot. Yes.” His fingers find my chin and he tilts my face towards his. “Messy’s how you know you’re doing it right.”

The rumble in his voice, the heat in his eyes, has me feeling weak-kneed again. I give in to the feeling, sinking to my knees in front of him. He sucks in a little breath, hips swaying unconsciously towards me.

He starts working on the buttons of his shirt, exposing his hard chest little by little. I draw a finger down his zipper, registering the way he twitches under my touch. “I wanted to do this on the day we met and you wouldn’t let me, remember?”

His shirt hangs open, framing a truly fantastic set of abs.

He drags his thumb along my lower lip. “Is that a pout, baby girl?”

My gaze is drawn to the bulge in his pants. After a few beats, I decide there’s no point in playing coy now and nod.

He makes some sort of rumbly, pleased sound in his throat and drags down his zipper. Shoving his boxers out of the way, he pulls his cock out, long and heavy. I wrap my fingers around it, liking the heat he gives off. Liking how soft and velvety that skin is over such thick flesh. I squeeze hard and he grunts, the muscles in his abs clenching in a fascinating way. Drawing my fist over the length of his shaft, I marvel at the way it hardens under my touch. When I let go, it’s jutting out proudly in front of him, inches from my face.

Groaning with impatience, he fists his shaft, wrapping one hand around the back of my neck. “Open up.”

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