Page 56 of No Romeo
On a gasp, Lola shoved my soaked jeans and boxers down. “In a minute. Just…” Then she grabbed my ass, hooking her leg around my hip and putting her bare pussy too close to my cock. “A minute.”
A minute? No fucking way. “How about five?” I ripped the foil and rolled the condom over my cock.
Her nails raked over my wet back when I bent just enough to place the head of my dick at her warm, slick entrance. “How much harm can you do in five minutes?” she breathed against my lips.
“A fucking lot.” Then I slammed into her. And fuck me, at the groan her tight heat forced up my throat. My teeth sank into her shoulder on another muffled grunt when I went just that much farther.
She felt so damn good. Physically. Mentally.
“Whythe fuckdoes your pussy feel so good?” I gripped her hips when I hit the end of her, took one deep breath, then fucked her like I could put her through the tile.
The slap of wet skin against skin bounced off the shower walls, mixing with her jilted moans.
Lola clutched at me, nails threatening to break skin while her lips brushed my throat. “Harder.”
I almost lost it. I wasn’t sure it was possible to fuck her harder, but I sure as hell tried. I buried myself so deep her breath caught.
“Shit…” Her pussy squeezed me tight before her body relaxed on a sexy-as-hell, make-my-dick-want-to-come moan.
I held that need in, focusing on the grout stain on the wall until she was shaking and clinging to me. Then I came on a groan.
I’d barely caught my breath by the time she slipped away from me. “That can’t happen again,” she said, snatching the shampoo bottle from the rusted, wire caddy.
Like hell, it wouldn’t. “Third time’s a charm, though.”
“Third time’s a habit.” She dumped shampoo into her palm. “And this is not going to be a habit.”
But wasn’t that what any addict said?
When I walked into the kitchen the next morning, Lola stood in front of the counter, her back to the doorway as she pushed up on tiptoes to rummage through the cabinets.My gaze trailed from her bare legs to the blond pigtails hanging down her back.Part of me wondered if she’d braided her hair with the sole intent to mess with me. She knew I had a thing for pigtails on her. Then again, I had a thing for anything on her.
She took the SpongeBob mug, startling when she turned around. “Shit, Hendrix.” She placed a palm over her heart. “Don’t creep up on me.”
“Creeper is as a creeper does…” I mumbled as I moved around her to grab a bowl from the cabinet while she made her coffee.
The old cat clock on the wall ticked, filling the silence.
I’d just opened the fridge and grabbed the milk when she sighed.
“What are you going to do about Ethan?”
“Well, I was going to set his car on fire, but since that’s already been handled...” I dumped Coco Puffs into the bowl, put the milk back, and took a seat at the kitchen table. “Nothing.”
She sat across from me and lifted her mug to her mouth with a subtle smirk. “How very rational of you.”
Rational? Not exactly. I just had limited options that wouldn’t end up with me back in jail.
“Why the hell would Ethan give the police my name?”
I hadn’t moved past the fact that he was a rich idiot. “What did they ask you?”
“They just wanted a statement. Apparently, you caught me banging Ethan and got ‘ragey.’” She placed her mug on the table, swiping at a trickle of coffee running down the side. “I refrained from explaining that, according to you, if he fucked me, he’d be dead.”
“My words were actually a corpse… and yes, he would be.” Honestly, he was lucky he wasn’t. And based on the fact that he had the balls to lie and say he screwed her, I wasn’t writing that off as a possibility just yet.
I spooned several large helpings of cereal into my mouth, trying to figure out what Ethan’s agenda really was. “If that piece of shit comes into your work, you’d better call me.”
“He’s not going to do anything to me in a busy restaurant.”
