Page 29 of Falling for the Bad Boy
“I’d hardly call crashing on your couch a date.”
“We could make it official. You want to go out and grab a bite to eat? There’s that twenty-four-hour place a few blocks over.” He turned toward the door.
I laughed. “No. You’re the one who’s hung up on the three-date rule.”
His attention shifted back to me. “What does that mean?”
Lifting my hand, I took a step closer, then set my palm on the firm plane of his chest. “It means anything goes.”
A shiver ran down my spine as he lowered his head. His mouth met mine, the soft touch of his lips seeming to be in direct contradiction to the heat and urgency that flooded my system. I wrapped my arms around him, trying to pull him closer, wanting to surrender my senses to the moment.
The dinner with my family, my brother’s unappreciated interest in my decisions, and being around my overachieving siblings had torn down my walls, leaving me vulnerable and unsure. Usually I’d run away, hop the first plane and get as far from their unwanted judgment as I could. But I’d lost that option when I signed the contract on the building. I needed to find another coping skill, a distraction. So far Oliver was doing a very good job of meeting that need.
His fingers skimmed my arms, eliciting a wave of goosebumps. Heat unfurled in my stomach like a strand of yarn slowly unwinding from the skein. I’d never been one to deny myself the pleasure of a gorgeous man’s company. And Oliver definitely fit the category of gorgeous man.
His palm cupped my chin. “You okay?”
With my heart beating in my chest like the rapid tempo to a drum line, I tried to summon a casual grin. “Yeah.”
“You let me know if you want to stop.” The pad of his thumb brushed my cheek.
“Stop? We’ve barely even started.”
The edges of his eyes crinkled as his lips turned up in a grin. “Where the hell did you come from?”
I met his gaze. How had I not noticed the honey-colored flecks in his dark-brown eyes? The color deepened, going from caramel to hot fudge as he dipped his head down again. His mouth met my neck, and I arched into him. The shorts he’d been holding dropped to the floor. My hands ran over his rib cage, his chest, and the small of his back, coming to rest on his hips.
He took slow, shuffling steps, herding me toward the back of the huge studio apartment. I complied, connected at the mouth, the hip, letting him guide me toward the bed. Desire rolled through me, gathering momentum with each flick of his tongue until it seemed like I couldn’t hold anything back. I chased the sensation, matching the urgency of his kisses with demands of my own.
When the back of my legs hit the mattress, I pulled him down on top of me. He shifted, sliding a hand under my shirt. The feel of his fingers dancing along my ribs made me realize how much I wanted this. No, needed this. A chance to feel… to remind myself I was desirable and worthy of someone’s attention. So what if my family thought I was a failure who would never amount to anything? In Oliver’s arms I felt wanted.
I moved under him, easing the edge of his briefs over his hips.
“Not so fast.” He pulled back then propped himself up on an elbow. “I want to enjoy you.”
My chest expanded. He made me feel desirable, worthy. “We’ve got plenty of time for that.”
“Take off your shirt then.” He rolled to his back and tucked his hands behind his head.
My mouth spread into a lazy grin as I undid the top button. “Are you always this bossy?”
“Only when I see something I want.”
His gaze followed as I slowly slipped each button through its hole. When I finished, I flung one leg over his hips and straddled him, my shirt still held closed. His tongue flicked out and rimmed his upper lip. Heat pooled in my core while I waited to see what he’d do next.
“Take it off.” His voice came out low, almost gravelly.
I wasn’t one to give into demands so easily but for some reason doing Oliver’s bidding turned me on. I’d been ready for a quick, heated tumble between the covers that would have left us both breathless and satisfied. Somehow his way of doing things, drawing it out, making demands, had me hotter and wetter than I could remember being in a long time.
Shrugging my arms through the sleeves, I watched him watching me. The way his eyes widened slightly when my shirt fell away, the way his dick strained against his briefs, the way his pulse kicked up in the ticking of the vein on his neck.
“Better?” I asked.
He nodded. “How about you lose the bra?”
I shivered as I slid my arms behind my back, wanting to draw out the moment. My bra seemed too small, too tight, as my breasts tingled, my nipples growing taut, my skin impatient for his touch. My fingers fumbled with the clasp before finally managing to undo the tiny hooks.
A low moan rumbled through his chest. “All the way.”
