Page 32 of Avery's Hero

He reaches for a tendril of my hair and wraps it around his finger, rubbing his thumb over the strands. “Because I do.”

He laughs darkly again and shifts in his seat. “But the truth is, I’ve got my own motives. I stole you away tonight with the complete intent of talking you right into my bed.”

“I thought you said we are taking this slow.”

“We are, but I need you to know what I want.”

My heart flutters around like it’s got wings. “Fair enough. Is that all youwant? Just sex?”

He turns the tables on me. “What do you want, Avery?”

How I wish I knew. I probably answer too quickly, but it’s the truth. “Relationships are trouble.”

His laugh is rough and short. “You don’t have to tell me.”

I ask the question again. “What do you want, Brock?”

Licking across his completely biteable bottom lip, he says hotly, “Everything.”

All the air inside the truck disappears. I try to suck in a breath, but get nothing. For thirty seconds, I can’t do anything but feel the opposing sensations of cold and hot that are coursing through my body. Finally, I say, “That’s… kind of sudden.”

“Is it? Isn’t a year enough time to think about all the ways I want you?”

Rattled, I shove my hands in my hair. I let out a rough breath. “It did feel like forever.”

He grabs my arm, and gently pulls me so I’m facing him. Searing me with a look that makes my body flare hot, he lets his eyes devour me. Voice rough, he slays me, “The wait is over.”

Oh. God.

My mouth goes dry. There’s suddenly a gigantic cotton-ball stuck in my throat. I’m so high on his lust that my head might as well be in the clouds. Before I can stop myself, I’m confessing, “I’ve never wanted to be seen the way you look at me.”

“Good.”

When I’m eager or nervous, I tend to ramble, so I force myself to simply say, “I’m out of my comfort zone here.”

Totally confident, the man says, “I’m not.”

“You’re going to have to break me into this sex with the boss thing.”

He growls low in his throat. It’s an utterly masculine sound that vibrates me as he leans toward me. The scent of him surrounds me and makes my ovaries squeal. “I’m happy to oblige. But I have to warn you, I’m a greedy mother-fucker when it comes to sex.”

Nervous as a mouse, I stutter, “You are? I don't even know what that means.”

The light glints in his green eyes. They’re sparkling with intensity. I love looking at Brock. Especially now. Energy simmers around him, thick and inviting. His eyes fall to my lips when he says, “I am. I want it all. I want to eat your sweet little pussy until you come screaming on my tongue. I want to take you against the wall as I spank your ass. I want to take you in the shower,fuck yeah,in the firehouse shower too. I want to bend you over my kitchen table and stuff you full of my raging hard dick. Right in the middle of my desk too. I want you to ride me in this truck, right here in the driver’s seat. Then I’ll lay you down and fold you up, and fuck you until we both break.”

Oh. My. G-god.

Who is this man? And how did I get here?

Brock Mitchell is a dirty girl’s wet dream. Too bad I never thought I was a dirty girl, but my vagina is screaming,“Me! Me! Me!”

He just looks at me. Eyes glittering with masculine confidence. And I try with all my might to keep my seams from popping.

Okay.Ooookay.Meltdown on aisle one.

Burning up, I fan myself and try to steady my breath. It’s impossible. My voice sounds foreign to my own ears. “I knew you were direct. I didn’t know you were going to dirty-talk my earoff.”

He reaches slowly for me and wraps his powerful hand around the back of my neck.

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