Page 44 of Junkyard Dog

“I can come with you,” she offered before she could stop herself.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, his hair falling forward as he watched her intently. “We’ll go after breakfast.”

Deciding to deal with their unintentional plans later, she tossed one leg over his and straddled him, tracing his mouthwatering V-cut and stopping just short of the very prominent promised land. As he reached toward her, she sat back and crossed her arms. “Uh-uh. Keep those paws to yourself.”

“Seriously?” His eyes flickered between her face and her hands that had dropped back to his boxers, her fingers finally touching his length.

“Seriously,” she stated. “Though if you want to be helpful, you could take off your shirt.” He sat up slowly, glancing behind her as if expecting a filming crew before he yanked his shirt over his head. She sat back on her heels, biting her lip as she took in the smooth expanse of his chest and studied a black symbol tattooed over his heart, tracing the thick C shape and arrow with her thumb. “Any meaning behind this?”

He leaned back on his elbows again, his attention locked on her every move while she resumed her exploration of his body. “Um, yeah. Probably.” With each grazing of his member, he held his breath a fraction longer. With every trailing along his inner thighs, his hips shifted slightly.

And when she finally inched her hand under his boxers and gripped him, his head dropped back, and a low moan escaped him.

The power rush alone was enough to encourage her further, his heavy breathing merely a bonus as she stroked him slowly. His fingers stretched toward her periodically before he’d remember her instructions and they would snap back down to the mattress, tangling in his sheets.

“Damn,” he muttered, making a valiant effort to sit up enough to watch her as she worked him. With the quick twist of her hand and a tightening of her grip, he dropped back onto his pillow with a grunt. “Hot damn, baby. Let me…lemme return the favor?”

“Nah,” she replied, smirking when his eyelids fluttered. “I kind of like calling the shots right now. I’m good at it.”

“Very.” He moaned, digging his heel into the mattress. “And I’m definitely not complaining.”

She was fascinated.

Fascinated with the goosebumps that had risen on his hot skin when she loosened her hold on him and ran her thumb over the tip of his length.

Fascinated with the string of curses he let out when she gripped him at the base with one hand while she pumped him slowly with the other.

Fascinated by how she turned him into a hot mess with nothing but her hands.

“Charlotte. Honey?” He growled, breaking her no-touching rule to still her movements. “I’m really, really close right now.”

Swatting his arm away, she ignored the endearment, tightened her grip with one hand, and placed the other on his stomach, digging her nails into his taut abs. “Close isn’t what I’m after.”

*

Alex leaned againsthis cluttered kitchen counter and ran a hand through his hair, keeping one eye on Charlotte’s sleeping form while his phone continued to buzz in his hand.

Bo had been calling relentlessly for twenty minutes, yanking him out of a deep post-orgasmic sleep and hurling him straight into his messed-up reality.

Every day he spent with her, he was falling harder.

And after last night, he was pretty sure he didn’t want to examine just how deep that fall had taken him.

They were slipping into an accidental relationship easier than either of them wanted to admit out loud, and he wasn’t anywhere near ready to put the brakes on.

A text pinged in.

“Answer, you hideous fuckwad.”

With a final check that Charlotte was still out cold, he eased the front door open, sat on the metal step of his trailer, and tapped Bo’s number. “What’s the plan?”

“About fucking time,” Bo grumbled, his voice rough and words slurred. “Get your couch ready, brother. I’m on my way.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes. “Why don’t you call me in the morning and I’ll see if I can hook you up with a room around here,” he suggested. “This place is too small for both of us.”

“Fuck that.” Bo snorted. “I’m tying up a few ends here and I’ll be bussing in.” A loud clatter echoed through the speaker, followed by muffled swearing. “Goddammit. I just replaced the glass on this thing last month.”

“Bus?” he asked, sitting up. “Where’s your truck?”

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