Page 53 of Single-Minded
“Same. Let’s go. I’ll walk you to your SUV and meet you at your house.”
Chapter Fourteen
Presley
We left the shop as it was, turned out the lights, locked up, and wasted no time getting to the parking lot. Walking side by side, we didn’t speak.
At my SUV, West said, “See you there,” in a rough voice, then shut my door.
Even after walking a block in the humid evening, I was shaking with need, my core throbbing with an ache to be filled.
Blowing out a big breath to steady myself, I backed out and headed toward home. I watched the headlights of West’s SUV in the rearview the whole way, worried he’d come to his senses, remember his objections, and change his mind.
When I reached my driveway, he was still behind me. I pulled into the garage, hopped out, and gestured to him to park next to me.
He was out of his SUV in no time and headed toward me at the door to the house as I made sure the outer garage door closed all the way.
He came up behind me, his front to my back, slipped his hand under the front of my tank, flattened it on my bare abdomen, then said in my ear, “You hiding me away like your dirty little secret?”
I heard his smile, then felt his breath whisper over my ear as he trailed his tongue over the lobe.
I was still trying to formulate an answer when he dipped his hand lower, beneath the waistband of my shorts, under my underwear, lower, until the tip of his finger dipped inside of me. “So wet,” he growled.
I opened the door but didn’t move, unsure if my legs would support me. He ensured I couldn’t when he swiped his finger over my clit, circled it, then pulled his hand out of my shorts and pushed the door open the rest of the way. When I felt his lips on my neck, I turned around to face him, seeking out his mouth with mine.
Our lips met, tongues came together, and he grabbed my butt, one cheek in each of his large hands. The next thing I knew, he’d lifted me up, stepped inside, kicked the door shut behind us, and was carrying me through the dark house. I wrapped my legs around him and kept kissing him, unable to get enough.
The bottom floor was still empty of everything except equipment and construction supplies, so he carried me to the stairs. Instead of going up, he turned, sat about three steps up, and pulled me into a straddle over him, all without ending the kiss.
West plunged his hands into my shorts and underwear again, and this time he shoved them down my thighs. With his hand supporting my waist, I stood, and he peeled them the rest of the way off as I kicked off my shoes.
When I straddled him again, my knees on the step on either side of his hips, he lifted me up to a higher step, until my core hovered above his mouth. At the first swipe of his tongue, I whimpered, grabbed ahold of the railing, and held on for dear life. He licked and nibbled and sucked until I was writhing against his mouth, begging, sputtering incoherently.
In no time at all, I came apart, my body contracting, hand clinging to the railing as I arched into his mouth and gasped his name. His tongue kept at me, driving me higher when I didn’t think it was physically possible to come any more, until a lifetime later I collapsed over him, gasping for air.
The next thing I noticed was him lifting my hips, placing the most delicate kisses to my inner thighs, as if I hadn’t just become deadweight on top of him. I was still recovering, barely able to move, for sure not able to think straight. I was putty in his hands, in the best possible way.
Eventually I slid down his body far enough to kiss him, fully aware I was the only one who’d gotten relief. He drew my tank over my head, almost like an afterthought, making me laugh quietly. Next he unhooked my bra, and I slid it off, leaving me completely bare and him fully dressed.
“We should go upstairs and get you naked,” I said between kisses.
“I’m too dirty and sweaty for that pretty bed of yours.”
I frowned. “Me too. We can fix that.” I moved off him and stood on shaky legs, holding out a hand.
I didn’t miss how his eyes roved hungrily over my body. I felt his gaze almost like a physical touch, somehow responding to it even though he’d just served up an orgasm that was a ninety-seven on a scale of one to ten.
West stood and took my hand. I led him upstairs and into my bathroom. I started the shower, and when I turned back around, he’d shed his shirt, giving me my first look at his bare chest. I stopped in my tracks and just…admired. He was solid and wide and cut, but not in an overdone bodybuilder way. Just…perfect.
He kicked his work boots off, then undid his pants and dropped them and his underwear to the floor. He removed his socks, then straightened, treating me to an eyeful I’d never forget. I knew in that moment I’d be forever doomed to compare all men to him, and none would ever measure up.
I managed to get my brain thinking enough to reach in and test the water. Then I stepped in, pulling him in with me. As soon as he shut the glass door, I was in his arms, running my hands up his incredible chest. With hot water raining down on us, we kissed hungrily, body to body, his erection pressed into my abdomen.
He filled my loofah with shower gel and spent the most titillating ten minutes scrubbing down every inch of my body, alternating the sponge with kisses and nips that had me aching for him once again.
When he was apparently done, he handed me the loofah. I filled it with more vanilla-scented shower gel and returned the favor, scrubbing every inch, kissing him, teasing him.
“You smell good enough to devour,” I said as I hung the sponge on its hook behind him.
