Page 44 of Riot of Autumn

“You shithead. Do you really think I want Mrs. Bunchen seeing my fucking O face?”

Ruby screws up her face, but then starts laughing. Her arm snakes between us and she tries to get her hand on my dick again, but she’s too far away. I push my chair out, standing up before leaning forward. My breath huffs out as I trap Ruby on my desk with my hands on either side of her hips.

“I was curious how long you’d last.”

“Before I did what? Told her to get the fuck out, or came down your throat?”

Ruby’s hand stops moving, and she shudders out a breath. “Honestly, I thought you’d make me stop.”

I pull back enough to look her in the eyes, our noses brushing. “Did you want to stop?”

Ruby licks her bottom lip, the tip of her tongue grazing my mouth.

“No,” she pants, her breath washing over my lips.

“Good. But I’m not interested in a quick BJ under my desk at the moment.”

Ruby’s eyes narrow, and I start to laugh.

“Fine, yes, I’m very interested in that. Just not right now.” I press a kiss to Ruby’s lips, no tongue, nothing more than a gentle brush of our mouths.

“What do you want right now?”

“Right now, I don’t want to rush. I want to take my time.” I trace her jaw with my fingers, letting my hand drift down her neck, down her back as I pull her in toward me.

I’ve wanted this woman for years. Even when I thought we’d never be more than verbal sparring partners, I never stopped wanting more. This time we’re not in some dark alley or in the closet of some sick Fae’s house. I’ve got Ruby right where I want her, and I’m going to take my time and enjoy every second.

15

RUBY

Ezra’s arms wrap around me, and he lifts me off the desk. I respond by snaking my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. His mouth returns to mine as he walks us across the office. I don’t know where he’s taking us, and I don’t care. I’m here for it all.

My head is swimming over everything Ezra just told me. It’s like my own personal history has been rewritten and it’s tragic and amazing all at once. Ezra wants me. He wasn’t making fun of me or rejecting me all those years ago. That knowledge is a new lens that I need to use to view so many of our encounters over the years. It changes a hell of a lot.

But that’s for later.

Ezra’s kiss is nothing like the gentle declaration earlier. This kiss is pure passion. It’s a thirst and a craving all rolled into one touch. Like I’m the air he needs to breathe and breaking the kiss would kill him. Hell, I might kill him if he stops kissing me.

I don’t know how he gets the door open to the private upstairs part of the clinic without dropping me. He makes his way up the narrow staircase as though he’s not holding another adult in his arms. Fuck me, that’s hot. His shifter magic must give him extra strength too, because this is not normal.

Ezra’s clinic is a converted house. The red brick building is a traditional New England colonial-style house. The second floor has one room set up with a tattoo chair, where Ezra has tattooed most of our friends. There’s another room with a couch and television. That’s where he carries me.

Keeping his hold on me, he sinks down onto the couch, so I’m straddling his lap. He pushes back my hair, tugging it a little until I open my eyes to look at him. The gold streaks in his brown eyes stand out brighter than normal. He’s so damn beautiful. We stare at each other as I lift my hand and trace it over his forehead and down the side of his face. His eyes go half lidded, but he doesn’t break our stare.

I’m pressed against the rigid thickness of his dick, my own body aching and wet. I didn’t go under his desk with the intention of giving him head. I can’t exactly say I tripped, and my mouth fell on his dick, but it wasn’t the original plan. Now, sitting here with Ezra’s hands fisting my hair and gripping my hip, it feels like I’m in exactly the right place. That doesn’t mean I’m not nervous. Is Ezra going to stop this? Do I want him to?

This might be the longest amount of time Ezra and I have ever been together and not talked. It’s oddly intense, and I’m so turned on my nipples could slice through my shirt.

“You’re fucking beautiful.” Ezra breaks the silence like it’s perfectly normal to take a timeout in the middle of making out to compliment someone.

Maybe that is normal? Hell if I know. I’m shit at meaningful relationships, and have never had anyone gaze at me like they see past all my bullshit and down to the very heart of me.

“I want you to fuck me until I’m hoarse from screaming. And then we’re going to go TP Timothy’s and fucking Johnny’s houses.”

A grin breaks out over Ezra’s face, but I’m kissing him before he can start laughing out loud. I swallow the sound down like I’m a succubus, and this is my fuel. Ezra’s laughter disappears the minute I grip his face and rock my hips over his dick. I have no clue how his pants stayed on while he brought us upstairs, but I want him naked.

Ezra must have the same thought about me, because his hands fumble at my shirt, trying to figure out how to get it off. I pull back from his kiss long enough to untie the damn thing. I unwrap it, and whip it somewhere across the room, just as Ezra does the same with his shirt. He growls when I hurry off his lap, desperate to get my pants off.

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