Page 79 of Mexico Can Choke On It
“FUCK. Fuck fuck FUCK!” she shouts, red-faced and desperate.
Yup. She’s into it.
I want to taste her.
No—Ineedto taste her.
Now. Take control. Show her Bryce Sterling understands how to please a woman.
I lift my arm—barely functional—grip her waist, and pull.
“What the—!”
She pitches forward, and the moment her chest hits mine…
I kiss her.
Hard. Messy. Greedy.
I kiss her like it’s a command, a question, and an apology all at once. Her mouth opens. She makes a noise—something in the back of her throat that’s half gasp, halfdon’t stop.
Then her lips move. She kisses me back. Her fingers grab my shirt. Her body sways.
Ohhh yes.
My hands slide down, over her curves, guiding her to where I need her most. My hips thrust upward, grinding against her core.
She moans into my mouth.
I do it again.
If this is my last act on earth, I will die doing whatever it takes to make Petra Brinkman come in the jungle.
The kiss goes molten. Then—
SLAP.
Pain detonates across my cheek.
“What the fuck, Bryce?!” she yells, scrambling off me.
I blink. “Did you orgasm?”
She looks like she might slap me again. And enjoy it.
I think I might enjoy it too.
My brain struggles to catch up. Not sex? Not sex.But she was… and I was… and we were…
“You were straddling me,” I explain, as if this clarifies everything.
“To SAVE you, not SEDUCE you!”
“But you were shouting my name.”
“Because you. Were. Unconscious! I can’t believe you kissed me!”
Oh.
