Page 62 of Tangled
“Figuratively,” Ava corrected.
Sabina rolled her eyes. “You are his kryptonite and wet dream all rolled into one. If Ididn’ttry to convince you to meet him, and he found out, then I’d find a brand-new, brutal training program on my calendar next month.”
“You all are crazy,” Jessica said, pulling her long ponytail from under her coat.
“Welcome to my world,” Scarlett muttered, though she did it with a smile.
“You love it,” Sabina said, giving her a hug.
“And if you don’t yet, you will,” Ava added, coming in for her own hug.
“I’ll keep you posted,” Jessica said with a nod.
One minute later, the apartment was silent. Scarlett stood at the closed door, debating what she should do with her time. Glancing at the clock, she noted Brad would be back in two hours. She was tired, but not so tired that she wanted to lie down. Instead, she decided to do a little cleaning.
Once the sheets were changed, bed made, and laundry going, she tidied the already-tidy living room. Then, with still well over an hour until Brad returned, she considered dinner. Doing a quick scan of her body, she decided that she’d try to cook something. She had no idea what was in the fridge or freezer, but she’d see what she could find.
An hour and a half later, Brad walked in, paused as the door closed behind him, and inhaled loud enough for her to hear in the kitchen.
“Whatever that is, it smells amazing,” he said, coming around the island. She straightened from where she’d been checking the bread in the oven and smiled. He stalked toward her, backing her against the counter.
“You made dinner again,” he said, sinking his hands into her hair.
“Nothing fancy, just Bolognese sauce and some bread,” she said before he tipped her head up and kissed her. The next thing she knew, her fingers were buried in his hair, and he had one hand at the nape of her neck and the other cupping her butt, holding her to him.
Wanting more, more of him, more ofthis. She shifted her hands down his neck, over his chest, and to the snap of his jeans. Popping it open, she eased the zipper down and took him in hand. Before this moment, she’d been too worried about her gag reflex to think about oral sex. But now, a feeling like none she’d ever known washed over her, and she wanted nothing more. She wanted to make him wild. She wanted to drive him to the brink, and she wanted him to lose control. And she knew exactly how to do it.
Shoving his jeans and boxers down, she lowered herself to her knees.
“Scarlett,” his rough voice came out.
“Hush,” she said before taking him in her mouth. He let out a curse and slammed his hands down on the counter, bracing himself as she tasted him. She drank in every twitch of his body, every sound—rough and primal—and every harsh breath.
She gripped his hips and took him deeper again and again. Glancing up, a thrill went through her at the sight of his headthrown back and the muscles of his forearms taut with tension as he held on to the counter.
She let out a little hum of pleasure and a heartbeat later, she found herself on her feet and bent over the counter. With her leggings now down around her ankles, he entered her from behind.
He held her hips so that she didn’t bump her stomach too hard against the granite as he slid in and out. She acknowledged the care, but she didn’t want him quite so cautious.
“More, Brad,” she demanded, pressing back into him.
It was against his nature to risk making her uncomfortable, but it was also against his nature to deny her. Even after so short a time, she knew this. And knew it was a gift that she’d want, and need, to treat with the care and love it deserved.
Her demand had him hesitating, but only for a second. Withdrawing from her, he kicked off his jeans, turned her around, then scooped her up and carried her to the formal dining table. Setting her on the edge, he put a hand on her shoulder and pressed her back. Tugging her leggings all the way off, he stepped between her thighs as she set her feet on the arms of two dining chairs.
“You want more?” he asked, teasing her center.
She closed her eyes and whispered a needy yes. Not even a second later, he slammed inside her. Gripping her hips to keep her perched on the edge of the table, he pistoned in and out, cursing with pleasure.
She reached over her head and grabbed the opposite side of the table, arching her back in the process. His ceaseless rhythm intensified, and he shifted a hand to touch her. The feel of him gliding in and out and in and out, his control barely in check, had her teetering on the edge. Then, as his fingertips gently flicked her, her pleasure began forming into a storm, gathering at hercore before sliding down her legs, up her stomach, and over her breasts.
He thickened inside her as her orgasm gained strength. She wanted to tell him more, she wanted to tell him so many things, but words were beyond her. And when the bow finally snapped and pleasure burst through her, all she managed was a long keening sound as she gripped and squeezed him, and he emptied himself inside her.
It took a moment for each of them to come back to themselves, and when she finally opened her eyes, she found Brad looking down at her.
She offered him a saucy smile. “I should make you dinner more often.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
