Page 28 of Betting on the Bad Boy
My heart thudded in my chest so loudly I automatically began to calculate the statistical probability that she’d be able to hear it. I opened my mouth to speak. But instead of blowing her off like I’d intended, I found myself saying, “I know what you mean. I was starting to think it was only me.”
Relief washed over her face. “Really?”
Dammit. I’d already admitted it, so I nodded.
“So I’ve been thinking.” Her cheeks tinged pink.
“And?”
“The, um, the hookup was pretty good between us, right?” Her gaze met mine. She looked away.
“Um, yeah. Better than good.” I leaned forward, all ears. What exactly did she have in mind?
“Then how about we keep it physical? No attachment, no drama, no talking even. Just sex.” Her shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, as if there would ever be anything casual about her when it came to getting it on.
I laughed. “Really? Just sex?”
Faith twirled a section of fiery hair around her finger and looked up at me through thick dark lashes. “Yeah, unless you don’t think you can handle it.”
My cock twitched. “Oh, I can handle it all right. I’m worried about you, though. You don’t seem like the kind of woman who’d go for a sex-only arrangement.”
In an instant, she raised up to her tiptoes, her mouth nuzzling the ticklish spot on my neck. I tensed beneath her, and she whispered into my ear, “People aren’t always what they seem.”
That was the understatement of the year. Faith Wainwright was definitely not what I’d expected. On one hand, what guy wouldn’t kill for a gal like Faith for some friends-with-benefits action? On the other, I’d tried this kind of thing before, and a woman like Faith always ended up wanting more. I hadn’t been so concerned about that in the past, but I’d grown up since then.
As strong as my attraction to her was—like taking a wrecking ball to the gut, over and over—there was something more between us. Something deeper than just the incredible chemistry, and it had me on edge.
Faith moved on to kissing my neck. Her fingers hooked the belt loops of my jeans and tugged me closer while her lips traveled up to meet mine.
My resolve flattened, as if it had been steam-pressed at the dry cleaner like one of my suits. Who was I kidding? If this hot chick wanted to use me for sex, who was I to deny her? I groaned and nudged her toward the corner, lowering my mouth to nip at her earlobe. If she was good with a sex-only deal, I’d be a dumbass to say no.
My fingers flipped the stop car button, bringing the elevator car to an abrupt halt.
Faith pulled back. “What, here?”
“Yeah, unless you don’t think you can handle it.”
Her eyes sparkled as I tossed her words right back at her. Challenge accepted. She yanked her backpack off her shoulders and let it crash to the ground. Next, the coat.
“Wait, won’t someone wonder why the car stopped?” Her fingers paused on the zipper of her jacket.
“This building’s so old, they’re always having trouble with them. You chickening out already?”
Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip. Hell, she was all talk. I bent down to retrieve her backpack and hand it to her. As I stood, she let her coat fall to the ground, then whipped her long sleeve T-shirt over her head and pushed me back into the corner.
My gaze wandered over her flat stomach and toned arms. She was incredible, and she wanted me. I leaned down to kiss her again, a sense of urgency building with every flick of my tongue.
She maneuvered my shirt up, breaking our lip-to-lip contact just long enough to yank it over my head, and ran her hands over my bare chest. My skin prickled under her touch.
“Jeans...off,” I mumbled into her neck. I undid her button with one hand and wriggled her jeans down her legs. The light flowery scent wafted off her skin. I slipped a finger under her bra strap and ran it up and down, edging closer to her breast with each pass.
Faith kicked off her boots, stepped out of her jeans, and flung them aside. She pressed into me, skin-to-skin. I couldn’t get my pants down fast enough. Wrapping both arms around her waist, I whirled her around, putting her back up against the wall. Her mouth moved over every exposed part of me. Hands raced up and down my sides, fingers darted under the waistband of my boxer briefs. No way was this going down the same way as last time. I’d make sure of that.
Her fingers brushed against my crotch. My dick throbbed at the contact. I nestled it against her stomach. Let her feel how turned on she got me.
She moaned, pressing into me, lifting her leg to wrap around my waist. Her arms closed around my shoulders, pulling me into her, urging me on. As if I needed any encouragement.
My hands cupped her ass, and I lifted, resting her body on the handrail, lining her up, adjusting the angle for maximum dry-humping pleasure.
