Page 27 of Hero Hair

I laugh as the uncomfortable sensation takes over my stomach. No one understands my obsession. Charlotte got me this picture last Christmas. It’s probably my favorite.

“You did say they were your favorites,” he amends, remembering one of our first conversations.

“Listen. Do something for me. Look at it,” I command.

He does, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“See? You can’t help but smile when you see a sloth. It’s like a happy pill. There’s something about the fur, the lumbering limbs, and sleepy faces. Nothing about them makes you upset.” Some people have Zen. I have sloths and a yoga studio.

I tug him out of the room, but not before I see his smile stretch a little further. Sloths. Gets them every time. “And this is my bedroom.” It’s black and gold. Like, shockingly black and gold. “I’m a sucker for a good theme,” I explain. The dark bed frame matches my black duvet and the furry pillows perfectly. “Before you ask, no, I’m not a vampire.” I tug the corner of my lip while I wait for his appraisal.

Spinning toward me, he quirks a brow. “Do you sparkle?” It’s an innocent, funny question, but it doesn’t match the feral look in his eyes as he goes back to surveying my bed. “I could make you sparkle,” he says, without looking at me.

“I’ve never been propositioned with that before,” I reply.

Macs prowls around my room, touching the surface of my dresser and the tall poster of my bed as he makes his way toward the window that looks out into the office building across the street. I trace the outline of my thumbnail with my ring finger. My nerves are at an all time high, watching him in my space. He takes up so much room.

“Great views in here too,” I say, nervously. I do have black and gold striped heavy drapes that cover this window. They’re open now, the soft glow of the city night flooding my bedroom, casting busy shadows on the black wooden floorboards.

He turns, leaning his back on the thick glass as he does. He slides his hands into the pockets of his shorts, and he visibly adjusts his dick from one side to the other. “I’d have to agree about that view,” he says, gaze zeroed in on me.

He lifts his shoulders off the glass and leans back on it again, as if he’s testing it for durability. It’s durable. A man once railed me so hard against it I was afraid it would break. The building orgasm was so intense, I didn’t even stop him. Death by orgasm. It describes everything that’s wrong with my life in one sexual escapade.

With one shaking hand, I grab the poster of my bed. “It’s sort of grandiose and stunning.”

He grins. I bite my cheek.

“People would kill for the view.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “But everyone isn’t granted that opportunity, are they? To kill for something they want?”

He’s a tease in the best kind of way. I’m so wet he could go swimming in my vagina and get lost in the current. His muscles flex and bunch as he talks and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. He’s so cocky. He’s an asshole. A mean guy. The definition of sex encapsulated in a package so divine I can’t control myself while he’s in my proximity. No woman can. That’s why he is the way he is. Women are to blame for this. And I still want him.

“They aren’t granted opportunity. It’s an exclusive building,” I reply. I can keep this charade up as long as he can. It’s distracting me from the fact a perfectly comfortable bed resides mere feet away from this man’s body.

Leaning up, he tucks his chin to his chest. He crosses to me in two large steps. “The thing with me is I’m privy to all exclusive things. People don’t tell me no. Ever.”

“Women don’t tell you no, you mean?” I amend his obvious untrue statement.

He shakes his head, puts his forefinger under my chin, and lifts my head to look up at him. “Sweetheart, you won’t tell me no. I can have you any which way I want.”

He could. I lose my breath looking at his face. The darkness enhances his perfect features. Shadows cut across the planes of his masculine physique.

“You couldn’t.” I hear my own lie. So does he.

He grins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I reply, tone breathy.

He leans down. His breath is warm and it makes me delirious with lust. I’m about to combust. I can’t take it anymore. My body calls out to his. Goosebumps rise on my skin the second a shiver racks my body. My nipples are tiny peaks of excitement. They’re straining against the fabric of my dress. I’m asking to be fucked tonight and I’m surprised he hasn’t called me on it yet. He’s not a gentleman. Grabbing the back of his neck, I bring my mouth up to meet with his. I catch a glimpse of his fucking smirk a second before I kiss the ever-loving shit out him. He pulls my body to him so I can finally feel the steel hard erection against my stomach.

It’s heaven. It’s hell. His kiss is poison and pleasure wrapped into one. I know it’s a mistake and I want to make it. I want every single inch of this mistake. His tongue snakes in my mouth as he tilts my head back by a quick tug of my hair. The rough gesture makes me moan out. I don’t like a man taking control of my body by using another body part. It takes away from the moment. Usually. Nothing is usual or normal about Macs and his lips and this kiss.

You know the rush of adrenaline that comes when you’re doing something scary or new, or something you merely know damn well is wrong? It’s whirring in my bones so profusely that my head is swimming. He’s picked me up, the black stretchy cotton high on my hips, and my legs are wrapped around his waist. It only takes a few moments before he’s walking me back to the fucking window.The fucking window. That’s what I’ll call it. He’s holding me up using one arm. The other one is busy fondling my breast. I arch my back, because more than anything I want his mouth sucking on my nipple while his cock dives deep inside my body. Warmness of his large hands melts through the fabric and sends tingles spreading throughout my belly and neck.

More.More. It’s the solitary word traveling through my mind. If I weren’t wearing a thong, I’d be sliding him inside me. Macs halts his lips on my mouth and travels down to my neck. I hear him groan as he drives his hard cock into me, wishing we weren’t wearing any clothing. He’s wild. Out of control, only wanting one thing.He wants to take.

I want to give. He raises my weight with ease and yanks my dress down so one breast breaks free.

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