Page 45 of Unguarded

“I need to taste more of you.” I devour her mouth, lips crushing her, teeth biting, hands exploring.

Her fingernails are scratching my neck, desperately pulling me closer to her. Someone could walk in at any moment—Fidel, Ember, Brooks, Danny, her stupid ex. None of them would approve. I’d have to leave the tour.

The thought makes me wild. I want to feel her orgasm around my fingers, on my tongue, then my dick. I reach for the waistband of her sweats, sliding my hand inside beforecupping her ass and squeezing. She moans into my mouth, her fingers combing through my hair as her hips buck into me.

“Is this what you want, Princess?”

She nods, gasping as my finger slides into the entrance of her pussy from underneath. She’s dripping wet for me, so ready. I brush my lips against her ear. She sucks on my neck, using her teeth to scrape against the skin. My eyes roll back as my entire body tenses up with the effort to hold myself back.

“Use your words, baby girl.”

“I want—” Her voice is breathless, like she can’t focus on speaking with me on top of her like this, my finger an inch inside of her.

A sound at the door makes us both freeze.

17

MONROE

Cash removes his finger from inside of me, pulling himself off of me smoothly. I’m still panting for air, every nerve ending in my body on fire. I feel like I’ll explode if he doesn’t get his ass back on top of me rightfuckingnow. I clench my thighs together, trying to exhale slowly and catch my breath. It’s the first time I’ve felt so turned on by a man in years. I didn’t plan on hooking up with someone this quickly after ending things with Zade, but I’m not complaining about it. Our relationship was mostly for public appearances.

Whoever is at the door is struggling to open it. A string of curses goes through the air.

Oh no. It’s Danny.

Cash grabs my blanket from where it fell to the floor and gently tucks it around my entire body, avoiding eye contact with me. He moves to the door.

I can’t see him, but he calls through it, “Who is it?”

“It’s Danny. Open up.”

“She’s sleeping. Come back later.”

“I need Fidel’s binder, asshole. Let me in. Key card is broken.”

Cash shuffles around the room before moving back to the door. I hear it open. They exchange the binder without speaking and the door shuts and he slides the second lock into place.

I sit up on the sofa, locking eyes with Cash. He’s still standing at the door, staring at me. His eyes are hyper-focused on my lips, a flash of anger crossing over his gaze. He looks down at his hand, at the finger that was just inside me. I hold my breath, willing him to walk back over to me and tear my clothes off. He clasps his fist tightly at his side.

He doesn’t come back to me. Instead, he turns into the adjoining room without a word or another look in my direction. My chest feels like it’s been cracked open, exposed to the elements of chronic loneliness that is this job and my life.

Now, he really is going to leave.

I collapse on the sofa, my cheeks suddenly wet with unexpected tears. He doesn’t want this life. He doesn’t want me. He just kissed me and left me here, wet and wanting. This has literallyneverhappened to me before. I’ve never been rejected by a man, especially one who was hard for me only moments ago.

Who does he think he is? He can’t just up and decide that’s all he wants from me!

I jump up from the sofa, anger racing through my chest. I march back toward his room. The door is half open. I push through it, but the room is empty. The adjoining bathroom door is cracked, steam seeping out of it. I step closer, peeringthrough to the opening, unable to stop myself. My heart pounds.

The shower is running. The mirror is beginning to fog, but I see him standing there, hands braced on the countertop. He’s shirtless, rippling muscles and tattoos covering his chest, the ink traveling down one arm. He’s staring down at the floor.

My jaw slacks open. I knew he was built because I could see his muscles under his clothes. But this is … his body is sexier than I ever imagined. His abs are defined, connecting to the V that dips down into his black Wranglers. A doubleRis branded on one of his massive shoulders, the jagged scar permanently marring him with his family’s ranch brand.

The slick arousal between my legs seeps out farther when I see him lift his finger to his lips, inhaling deeply before he sucks it into his mouth. His eyes drift shut, a sensual groan escaping his lips.

He’s tasting me …

I can’t breathe. My limbs won’t move. He’s not just tasting me; he’ssavoringme. He sucks the finger completely dry, rolling his neck around before he reaches for his belt.

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