Page 6 of Leave Me Behind
He looks down at me in question. The cold edge has eased from his eyes and I wonder if it’s because we both know where tonight is headed.
“Let’s go to my hotel,” I say boldly. I’m also going to make him check in with the front desk person with me before we head up. Can never be too careful. I’ve watched enough true crime to make any sane person paranoid, even if I’m trained to kill a man in more ways than anyone has the right to know. Bradshaw is one of the rare ones that has me on edge.
He smiles for the first time and it’s a sight to behold. Somehow it makes him more mysterious too.
“Sure,” Bradshaw says and flashes me that lazy grin again.Holy shit.He’s the kind of guy I would take a three-day vacation for just to fuck for seventy-two hours straight.
My cheeks warm as he takes my hand and guides us out of the club. He leads me into the dark parking lot before mounting a crotch rocket. I force the smile that wants to bloom over my lips to remain small.He’s certainly full of surprises.Bradshaw hands me his helmet and I raise a brow at him.
“You wear it,” he says sharply, almost annoyed that I’d even be concerned about him not having one.
Asshole. I shove the helmet over my head and sit behind him, wrapping my arms around his wide torso and locking my hands together. It’s not my first time on a motorcycle, but I get that same flutter in my chest with Bradshaw driving. He takes off at a wicked speed, maybe trying to scare me, but I just smile and let my head lie flat against his back.
The knowledge that this might very well be my last indulgence in pleasure sends a pulse of dread through me. But I’ll make it fucking memorable. I haven’t felt excited like thissince Sergeant Jenkins cornered me against a shower stall when I was first transferred to Riøt.
We check in with the hotel clerk and head up to my room without any chit-chat. His lack of conversation makes the hair on the back of my neck rise. I’m keenly aware of the heat from his gaze as I slide the key card to my room.
I set my wallet down on the entry table, having fleeting thoughts of how stupid this might be. Admittedly, I’ve never fucked a stranger. But his hands smooth over my stomach, casting away any doubt I had as he pulls me back against his broad chest. My eyes widen. He’s already taken his hoodie off and only his thin T-shirt hides those abs. He dips his head beside mine and presses his lips delicately to my collar bone. His breath is warm against my skin.
He spins me to face his chest and lowers his head to mine for a kiss. I open my mouth to say something rather than going straight into it, but he lets out a sigh and gives me a pointed look. This close, his scars are clear, more defined and red. Fresh. Maybe a year old. Two, max.
“I’m not here to get to know you.” His voice is stern. Detached.
“Oh… sorry. I just don’t do this often so…” I trail off and look down. Heat spikes through my veins with embarrassment. He’s absolutely brutal.
Bradshaw tilts his head and guides my chin up with his hand, staring into my eyes coldly, like I’m a meal he wants to devour and be done with. My eyes trail to his ears where he has two black cuff earrings at the center of each. “I’ll lead,” he says placidly and brings his lips to mine.
In contrast to his personality, his lips are the softest I’ve ever kissed. His crisp forest scent falls over me and I’m instantly sucked into this moment with him.
It’s not a romantic kiss people dream about. It’s fervent and starved. Bradshaw guides me to the bed and dips me down to the sheets. He deepens his ruthless pursuit and our tongues meet aggressively. His teeth aren’t far behind. I moan as he bites into the fat of my lower lip.
He breaks our connection and leans up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the floor. I watch him through hooded eyes and admire the sharpness of his body. There are many scars that caress each divot, making me certain that he’s in the army too. The long grooves were from KA-BAR knives, I assume by the severity of the scars. Bullet holes have left starbursts on his skin. I want to ask him about them. I want to hear his stories. But he clearly doesn’t want to talk and it’s probably for the best. I’m going to be leaving tomorrow anyway. So, I admire him in silence and let his movements take my thoughts away.
Bradshaw’s eyes find mine as he slowly removes his pants. I lower my hands to my waistband but he stops me.
“I like to do it,” he confesses with a dark grin.
I swallow, trying to remain calm when my body is anything but. The throb of need in my core is enough to have me squirming, but I like the slow pace he’s setting. He likes to be in control and clearly something depraved in me finds that erotic.
He frees his cock and tosses a condom on the sheets for when we’re ready.
My eyes linger on his sheer girth. I expected nothing less, honestly. The assholes are always hung for some reason.
Bradshaw turns his attention to me now, lifting my shirt slowly and pressing kisses up my stomach to my chest. He unhooks my bra and pulls it over my head along with my shirt. He easily slides my leggings and underwear off after. My nipples pebble against the chill in the air. He lowers his lips to one while palming the other gently.
I writhe beneath him as he flicks my tit and mercilessly swirls his tongue around. He rubs his shaft through my wet slit, coaxing and teasing my core until my nails are digging into the soft flesh of his back. A low grumble vibrates in his chest as he lowers his hand and uses two fingers to circle my clit. My back arches and he pulls me closer against his chest, breathing heavily and dotting my neck with kisses.
He gently pumps his hips, rubbing his dick against my stomach and wetting my skin with pre-come.Oh my God.He reaches behind me and grabs the condom, puts it between his pearly teeth and slowly tears it open, staring down into my eyes unfazed.
And just like that he made condoms sexy.
Bradshaw sheathes it over his twitching cock and grins at me as he reaches down and pushes two fingers inside me. I moan at the intrusion as he rubs my inner walls, fingering my G-spot and smiling as I beg him not to stop. He pulls his fingers out before my orgasm can build further and shows me the evidence of my arousal.
“You see how wet you are for a stranger? What a good girl. Are you going to scream for me too? I’d like it if you did,” he whispers, but his voice isn’t soothing. It’s sexy and scary. Dominant.
Who the fuck is this man?I find myself wondering again.
He lines his tip to my entrance and starts teasing me, only pushing the head in before pulling it out. I can feel myself stretching for him, each thrust going deeper and penetrating small pieces of me at a time.
