Page 42 of Clashing
“Promise me you’ll keep your hands where they are, even if I let go.”
My insides vibrated with need. “I promise.”
Fingers digging into my hips, he jerked forward and his cock penetrated me. Dropping my forehead to the bed, I moaned. He yanked me up by the belt which tightened it around my throat and forced my back to arch. Wrapping the belt around his fist, he tugged it toward him as he thrust in so deep I screamed.
“Oh,God.”
“You like that?” His thrusts grew harder.
Unable to speak through the whimpers, I nodded. “Words, Scarlett,” he growled, smacking my ass.
“Yes.” I gasped as he rammed into me. “Just like that, but harder.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, and his skin slapped against mine when he shoved into me. I cried out, pleasure assaulting my senses until stars danced in my vision.
He jerked me back toward him, and his fingers clasped around my wrists. Hot breath skirted over my skin, and when he tightened the belt around my neck, I almost came.
“Baby, I’m going to make it so you can’t walk tomorrow.” His lips grazed my ear. “Every time you step, you’ll feel that ache and miss my cock in you.”
Having trouble walking never sounded so good.
Chapter thirteen
The Whole Package
Ryker
Onemorenight.Thefutile chant didn’t improve my self-control. My plan to set things straight with Scarlett and end all this sneaky hooking up backfired when she answered the door to her apartment in sweats and a T-shirt. The T-shirt hung loose everywhere except her chest, and the sweats rested low on her hips, like a temptation to pull them down. A lack of revealing clothing didn’t diminish her irresistibility. Especially not when I ripped those clothes off her.
That night, I told myselfno more. I trudged in on Friday planning to tell her and of course, it went to hell. I snuck up after closing, and she answered the door all sleepy and adorable, wearing a tank top that did nothing to hide her perfect nipples and shorts that might as well have been underwear. Pretty clear I didn’t end it that night.
Saturday’s the day.Another attempt failed when she returned from an art show wearing a little red dress. It clung to her curves and ended mid-thigh, showing off legs I wanted wrapped around me again. I invited her to my place and told her to keep the dress on. I now hadalotof good memories attached to that dress. I only hoped she’d spare me and not wear it again.
Sunday’s inability to locate self-control marked the fourth week of hooking up, which I’dneverdone. I usually got bored, but there was nothing boring about Scarlett—her retorts, her attitude, her body. I loved pulling those needy sounds out of her, loved watching her writhe and whimper. Her responsiveness enraptured me.
The addiction had gone too far. We talked about birth control and stopped using condoms. Another thing I’d never considered before but when she asked, the image of taking her raw shoved responsibility out the window. Fantasies of my come spilling out of her drove my decision to sayfuck condoms. That kinda thing was relationship-level shit. I had to end it.
Another week passed, but this time I arrived with a plan. I prepared a speech and spent the whole drive thinking of the most unsexy things. Grandparents doing it. Green beans. Danny naked.Yeah, that’ll do it.I just had to stay focused.
Cigarette smoke and greasy but delicious smells from the kitchen filled my nose when I strolled into Danny’s. With Scarlett nowhere to be found, I sat at the bar and Tammy dropped off a drink. I expected Scarlett to appear at any moment since Dan said she’d work weekend nights—barring an art show— to help with the NBA crowd.
Thirty minutes passed. Dan emerged from the kitchen with crackers and ginger ale but abandoned them behind the bar. Muttering a curse, he stalked to a new group of customers who planted themselves at a corner table.
While Danny and Tammy rushed around, I racked my brain for a reason behind Scarlett’s absence. She knew weekends were hard for them.
Dan refilled my scotch, shaking his head. “Sorry, Ryker. Swamped today.”
“Isn’t Scarlett supposed to be helping?”
“She’s sick.” His concerned gaze flicked to the ginger ale and crackers. “I meant to take this up to her an hour ago but haven’t been able to.”
“Want me to take it?”
“Would you?” He inclined his head toward another group who sat at the bar, gazes glued to the TV mounted above the liquor. “I have to get these new guys.”
“No problem.” When his attention diverted, my shoulders slumped. This wasn’t part of my plan.
Crackers and ginger ale in hand, I stomped upstairs and knocked. No answer. Trying the door, I found it unlocked.Damn her.She never fucking listened.
