Page 61 of Resist

“No. I can’t just close whenever I want. Someone’s gotta pay the bills.”

He glanced around the tavern pointedly. She didn’t bother to follow his gaze because she knew what he saw. The only two people in the place were the same old guys sitting at the counter, and they’d been nursing their beers for the better part of an hour.

Rather than respond, Coulton walked over to the men and offered them both a fifty if they left. Needless to say, they took the cash and got out.

Coulton followed them, closing the door, and locking it. Then, he turned off the lights, leaving them in near darkness, the dim streetlamp outside casting them in silhouette.

“What the hell kind of big-baller play was that?” she asked, a million butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “You just wasted your money. I don’t know what you expect to happen here, but let me go ahead and clue you in. It’s a big fat nothing.”

He moved until he stood close to her again. “Let’s start over,” he said, in a soft voice devoid of anger. What the hell waswrongwith this guy? She was being a total cunt. Why wasn’t he getting pissed off and leaving?

“Start what over?”

He reached out again, moving faster this time, and snagged her wrist. He took the dishcloth from her hand and tossed it onto a nearby table. Using his grip, he tugged her until her breasts brushed his chest.

“I missed you, Ainsley,” he murmured, his lips a breath away from hers. “Thought about you every night.”

“Well, I didn’t?—”

Coulton closed the distance, kissing her roughly, hungrily, wiping the lie from her lips with his own.

No, he wasn’t merely wiping it away. He was obliterating it.

Ainsley would like to meet the woman who could resist this kind of passionate, all-encompassing, incredible kiss, though she was pretty sure she didn’t exist. Her lips softened and her tongue met his as she returned the kiss.

Coulton paused for a moment, his lips tickling hers as he spoke. “You can push me away as hard as you want, wildcat. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why not?” she asked, before she could think better of it.

He pulled away from her. Not far. Just enough that he could see her face clearly. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

“How incredible you are.” He didn’t give her the chance to respond, not that she would have known what to say anyway. Coulton had found an entire vocabulary of words no one had ever used to describe her. Incredible. Adorable.

He took her lips again in another forceful kiss, twisting her as he did so, pushing her, step by slow step, until her back was pressed against the bar. With one hand, he pulled off his T-shirt, draping it over one of the stools, like he was one of those old-timey gentlemen placing their coats across a puddle for women to step over.

Then he unfastened her jeans and panties and tugged them down until they landed around her ankles. She only managed to kick one leg free before he lifted her and placed her bare ass on the shirt-covered stool.

Between the darkness and the sheer curtains over the windows, it was unlikely anyone could see them from the street. Not that she gave a shit at the moment.

Coulton drew down the zipper on his own jeans and pulled his cock out. She’d seen it several times, but that still didn’t quite prepare her for the sheer girth of the man. Even now, after he’d rocked her world countless times, she suffered that split-second moment of doubt that the massive thing would fit inside her.

He wasted no time, proving just how much he’d missed her. Sliding his fingers through her slit, he grinned cockily at the wetness he found there.

She scowled, though there was no heat behind it. The man kept putting himself out there for her, so she figured she owed him one—or twenty. “Fine. I might have missed you. A little bit.”

Coulton’s smile was wide and bright and so gorgeous it took her breath away, though that reaction was brief and washed away when he lined his dick up with her opening and slammed inside.

His thrusts mimicked his kisses, as he took her with a power and a need that mirrored her own. Ainsley dug her nails into his upper arms, her hips sliding forward and back as she matched his rhythm and pace.

“God,” she cried out, when he slid a hand between them, his fingers stroking her clit until she saw stars.

“Come for me, wildcat. Then you’re coming back to my place, so I can convince you once and for all that this isn’t just a hookup.”

If she wasn’t on the precipice of an orgasm, maybe—ha ha—she’d find a way to resist that invitation, but all she could do right now was hang on for dear life.

“Coulton!” she screamed, climaxing hard enough her teeth rattled.

---