Page 38 of Arm Candy Warrior

He lowers his head, kissing a trail straight down the center of my breasts to my belly button and then back up again, first taking my left nipple in his mouth while he kneads the other, and then the right. I arch into him, craving more of his touch. I liked the intensity of the moment with Johnny, but what girl doesn’t want to be worshipped either?

I take my fingers and hook them around his boxer briefs before pulling them down. He pauses his attention on my nipples to kick out of his boxers before lowering himself again. “Open your legs for me, beautiful.”

I push my knees to the side so he can settle comfortably between them. He hovers just out of reach, so I tip his chin up so I can kiss his lips, while wandering my fingers through the hard dips of his abs and then lower until I brush his cock. He jerks toward me at first contact and moans into my mouth. I stroke him, my palm running down his hard length and back up again at the pace of our kissing. My core throbs. Brawler lowers his hands, brushing his thumb over my clit. I buck into him, needy for more. He places a finger at my entrance, teasing me first.

“Wet for me.”

“Mm-hmm,” I sigh.

He pushes his finger inside, and I break the kiss. All thoughts obliterate as I focus on his finger and match my strokes to his. The slow burn of us easing into this has only intensified every spark of desire coursing through me.

“Brawler,” I warn, trying to tell him that if we’re going to do this, we have to do it now because I’m not going to last long.

He pulls his finger away, kissing me on the lips before reaching over to the stand by his bed and opening the small drawer there. He fishes out a condom wrapper, and I wait as he rips it open and guides it down his length. I watch in awe at just how long it takes for him to unroll the condom over himself. Brawler’s big.

I don’t have too much time to think about it though because he hooks his hand around my thigh and pulls me close to him, lining us up. He pauses a moment, waiting until our gazes connect, before he pushes the head of his cock inside. My toes curl as he strokes all the way in, only stopping when he’s fully seated.

I smile. It’s the most ridiculous thing to do in that moment, and I instantly regret it. Before I can hide in shame, though, he smiles back. “Fuck,” he says, chuckling. “You feel too good.” He moves out and pushes back in, reaching a little further this time until both of us react, a moan from him and a short cry from me.

After that, all bets are off.

The bed creaks underneath us. I hope to God his mother is still sleeping because it’s obvious what’s going on in here. Every time he pushes inside me, he grinds over my clit, and I suck in a breath at the explosion of pleasure. My hands roam over his firm, tight muscles as he drives us both higher and higher.

Trembles overtake my body, and I dig my heels into the bed, matching him stroke for stroke until my fingers sink into his skin as soon as my orgasm hits. “Yes, yes.”

Wave after wave of pleasure rocks into me. Brawler’s whole body tightens, then he strokes inside me one last time, his arms quaking as he holds himself up. After a moment, he drops his forehead to mine, silencing us both as we share an intense stare. In that moment, everything that needs to be said between us is said with our eyes.

Brawler will be following me when I leave the Heights. That much I’m sure of.

We dress slowly. I liked being in the Brawler bubble, but now that reality has set back in, I know I have to leave soon. Brawler hands me my t-shirt, and when I pull it over my head, he grasps the material in his fists and pulls, bringing me closer to him. He kisses me, a tender press of his lips against mine until footsteps sound on the other side of the door.

He pulls away. “Shit.”

A knock sounds. “Marcus, are you in there?”

The voice is gravelly. I can tell it’s a female, but it’s also a lower tone than I would’ve imagined coming from his mother. Or any female for that matter.

“Yeah, Mom.”

I raise my eyebrows at him, and he lifts his shoulders.Dear God, I hope we didn’t wake her up.

He straightens the fresh shirt he pulled on while I take my hair out of its ponytail, run my fingers through the dark strands, and then put it back up again. He takes my hand, and we walk out together. His mom looks over her shoulder. She’s wearing a nightdress. She can’t be that much older than what my own mom would be, but looks aren’t just measured in years, and I can tell the years have not been kind to Brawler’s mom.

My heart sinks.

Her eyes widen when she sees me next to him. Her gaze drops to our entwined hands, but I’m not afraid of her telling anyone. She looks like she doesn’t get out of the apartment much at all. “Oh, hello.”

I slip my hand from Brawler’s and move toward her. “I’m Kyla,” I tell her. “Nice to meet you.”

She gives me a limp shake and then retracts her hand, rubbing it down her disheveled nightgown. Crimson colors her cheeks, and I glance away at her embarrassment. “I didn’t know Marcus had anyone over. A girl…friend? A girlfriend?”

I look over at Brawler. His gaze softens when he looks at her. For the first time, he’s not a badass fighter, he’s someone’s son. A caregiver. “Kyla and I really haven’t talked about it yet. Thanks for bringing it up.”

I laugh, and his mom hobbles over to the sofa before falling backward into it.

“She’s the neighbor I was telling you about. The one you made the cookies for.”

“Oh, yes. How were they?”

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