Page 84 of Gorgeous

Simple and to the point.

Honest and truthful.

I want him.

Every single scar.

Hooded eyes narrow on me, unblinking, and then he picks up his phone, tapping the screen before filling the darkened bedroom with a hypnotic beat. “Then dance for me like you’re mine.”

Holy shit.

“I, uh … I only dance for fun.” I wave my hand around. “You know, when I’m cooking.”

He breathes along his fist, slow and careful, like he’s measuring me up. “I know. You’ve made me more than uncomfortable at a few breakfasts.”

I did? Huh. Who knew?

I suddenly feel like Wonder Woman has nothing on me. I ease myself off the bed, bending to take off my shoes.

“Leave them on.”

Oookay. What’s a few more minutes of pain?

Standing, my hips sway to the beat, feeling unnatural since I’m usually just bullshitting, doing random dance moves I’ve seen on YouTube. Cade beckons me toward him and eases me onto his lap, pulling my dress up around my hips to accommodate my spread position. He breathes me in, reaching around my back and unzipping my dress at a lazy pace. The fabric peels away from my body as if he’s parting the sea with his fingertips, and my skin tingles.

“Keep moving,” he whispers into my shoulder, his fingers drifting lower.

Let’s be honest here. I am not dancing. I am dry humping this man to the beat of the music. Okay, well, they do that in clubs, too.

His hand disappears under my dress and immediately my stomach clenches. Please touch me. Please slide those long fingers—

“I need you to talk to me. Like before,” he mumbles, his finger grazing the elastic of my panties.

I don’t want to ruin this moment and act like an idiot, but I have no clue what he’s talking about. “What do you mean, talk to you like I did before?”

Cade breathes harshly into my chest, the hand not under my dress unfastening my strapless bra. “Talk dirty. I need you to talk dirty to me. I think with you restraining me and the commanding tone, it kept me out of my head.” He flashes me a scolding look. “I would prefer not to be restrained every time, so let’s see if that filthy mouth of yours will be enough.”

Well how about that? Mister I Can’t Be With You wants me to be a dirty girl. I can do that. I cansodo that.

“Put your fingers inside me, Major Jameson.”

Cade pushes my panties aside. His pace is slow, hesitant, as he moves closer to my center, taking care to stroke along the thin strip of hair.

“I want to ride your fingers,” I admit, moving my hips over his hardened cock. “I want you to shove them in one by one until you can’t fit any more without ripping me in two.” Cade’s chest is rising and falling, his breathing erratic and strained. “Now, Major.”

Saying that may have been the wrong thing to say because I swear Cade damn near fists me, sending me doubling over into his shoulder.

“Fuck my fingers, Brecklyn.” Is that his fingers or his goddamned fist? I can’t tell. The biting pain countering the fullness is distorting my perception. “Take what you need.”

Slowly and carefully, I move over his fingers. Clockwise and then counter clockwise, I manipulate this man’s fingers like a chiropractor until the magical spot comes alive. Gasping, my mouth gaped open, I chase the tingling sensation until I explode, a rush of wetness dripping down my leg. Exhausted, I lay on Cade’s chest. His arms wrap around me so we’re chest to chest. Heartbeat to heartbeat.

We come down slowly, our breathing returning to normal when I try to lift off of him. His arms tighten, his sweaty mane still pressed against my cheek.

“Stay with me tonight,” he mutters.

Yeah, I didn’t say no.

B,

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