Page 36 of Bad Boy in Her Bed

Jocelyn was doneplaying.

Every nerve in her body felt ready to combust, the ache between her legs bordering on painful from the incessant state of arousal Birch had held her in.

So when he hiked her leg up and rammed into her, she almost wept with relief.

Gripping her hip, he pounded into her at a punishing pace, his angle hitting a spot deep inside her that had her reaching back and grabbing the headboard for leverage.Her building orgasm felt heavy, buried in her core and drawn out with every thrust.The sensation almost too much the closer she got.

“Oh god, Birch,” she moaned, grasping her breast and tweaking her nipple.“Harder.Please.”

His pace increased, his breathing becoming more ragged as his fingers dug into her hip bone.The corded muscles running the length of his tattooed arms were rock hard, the thin sheen of sweat on his skin making the art coloring the ridges and planes of his chest and abs more defined.Hitching her other leg up, he shifted his angle and the move sent her over the edge into an orgasm originating deep in her core and radiating through her entire body.

Her back arched off the bed as she rode the crest, her nails scratching across her own stomach while she thrashed beneath him.She could hear herself whimpering incoherent words as he continued to pound into her, unable to make sense of anything until his voice broke through.

“Touch yourself, Jocelyn,” he snarled, releasing one of her thighs and grasping her wrist.Pressing her hand against her clit, he held it there, coaxing her movements until she took over with a moan.“Make yourself come for me again, honey.”

Her fingers were slick as she touched herself with a practiced flow and pressure, another, more familiar orgasm building within minutes.As the sensation swelled to borderline unbearable levels, she stopped, unable to push her body further.

Birch’s hand was back on hers immediately, his fingers replicating the way she liked to be touched and forcing her orgasm through her as his rhythm began to falter.With a strangled curse, he came hard, and his hips slammed into her while he rode it out, his movements slowing as the tremors eased.Putting his hands on either side of her waist, he dropped his head to her sternum, his broad shoulders heaving as he struggled to regain his breath.

Sated and spent, she ran one hand through his dark hair, tracing circles on the nape of his neck and wondering if her temporary ink was still intact.

Chapter Sixteen

Jocelyn sat onthe floor of her hotel room with her spreadsheets and the Serpent’s Tongue bank statements placed alongside her collection of colored highlighters.

Her hips were still aching from the past two nights, the dull throb a distraction from the seriousness of the work ahead of her.Glancing over at her phone to see Birch’s last text, she smiled and scooted closer to the coffee table.

“Already thinking of the next piece.”

Uncapping her yellow highlighter, she began comparing deposits and withdrawals.The monotony of the work allowed her mind to drift to yesterday and significantly more entertaining thoughts.

Acting on his request to swing by Serpent’s Tongue when she was ready for a break, she’d shown up as he was wrapping up a sample for tomorrow’s client.Their conversation was light and easy until he set his pen down and all but dragged her to his truck, grunting out a promise to drive her to her car in the morning.But when they walked into his dark house, he adhered to their plan of a movie, going through the motions of choosing one and tossing a bag of popcorn in the microwave before stretching out on the couch and giving her a lip-biting grin.

Switching to her pink highlighter, she moved on to cross-referencing with her spreadsheets.

Birch’s hands had slipped up the back of her blouse within minutes of the opening scene.She ignored his wandering fingers for a few minutes, laughing when he grew impatient and simply lifted her and placed her where he wanted her, aligning her chest with his face.

“Better,” he’d muttered, as he undid the buttons of her shirt and arched up to run his tongue along the lace trim of her bra.“So much better.”

Their make-out session was slow and leisurely, as though he were waiting for the movie to end so he could officially jump her.

And jump her he did.

Chewing on the blue highlighter, she stared at the numbers, looking for patterns.

When the first movie credits had flashed across the screen Birch had her on her feet as he stripped her with a frantic desperation, his lips devouring hers while he tried to stumble up the stairs with her to his bedroom.When he tripped on his own discarded jeans in the hall, he gave up and took her then and there, his ravenous desire almost engulfing both of them before he reared up and snatched his jeans, tugging his wallet from the back pocket and producing a condom.With none of the finesse of their last encounter, he unrolled it down his length roughly and pushed into her, pounding her fast and hard while she dragged her nails across his back, marking him as he marked her.

Glaring at the brightly highlighted papers spread across the table, she shifted her position, her eye catching what she was looking for.

“Damn it,” she whispered, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the stack of invoices off the dinette.

*

Birch repositioned thesheet covering his client’s breast, refusing to acknowledge theaccidentalslipping the fabric had done for the fifth time in an hour while he worked on the requested feather tat.

“You have incredible focus,” the woman purred, flinching when he finished off the outline.“Is your attention to detail this intense in everything you do?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d inked a married woman from the neighboring town, the tan line of her ring giving her away.A mistake in judgement during Serpent’s Tongue’s first month had found him banging a client in the back of her SUV.Her relationship status came to light only when her phone rang and her husband’s photo came up on the screen.

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