Page 25 of Stolen By the Hit Man
He leans in, and I catch the scent of his sweat just before his lips touch mine.
His mouth captures me while his hand cups the back of my neck. The sensual sweep of his lips over mine makes my head go fuzzy. His tongue licks over the seam of my lips, and I melt, surrendering to the kiss. I open to him.
He slips his tongue into my mouth, and I gasp at the pleasure of it. He tastes delicious with the faintest hint of the tequila we drank together.
His licking kiss sends heat down to my core. His long lashes rustling against my cheek makes my heart skip a beat.
The scrape of his scruff against my chin hurts a little. I shiver, and get over it.
When Joaquin finally pulls away, I’m breathless and dizzy and so turned on I can’t think straight. Which is fine by me. No more thinking.
No more confusion. No more questioning. No more headaches. I’m jumping in.
I can’t help it—I tremble as Joaquin wraps his arms around me, deepening the kiss. It’s been so long since I’ve been held. And it’s never been like this.
My hands travel over his hard trap muscles and down, fisting the front of his shirt. He groans and rests his forehead against mine.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why do you have to be so damn sexy?”
I laugh as my eyes dart downward to my dirty overalls. “I smell like farm animals and I’ve got pit stains, but whatever floats your boat…” I trail off as Joaquin’s hand slides inside the back of my overalls, hitching up my tee-shirt.
His lips are so close to mine I can feel his breath. “And what if I said that just makes me want to lick every inch of you clean?”
Heat surges through me. An embarrassing, babyish whimper comes out of me instead of words.
Joaquin kisses me again. Slower, deeper this time. I want him so badly I can’t see straight.
What if I’m not good at this? I’ve never cared before, because I never had emotions in the game. Nelly said it: I’m not ready for a man like Joaquin.
But I’m in too deep now.
I’m just going to buckle up and enjoy the ride while it lasts.
He has both his hands on the small of my back now, skin on skin. His sandpapery fingers deliciously roam over my lower spine. Teasing yet reassuring. Making me want more of him. All of him.
His hands move lower, resting just above my cheeks. The small caresses there trigger liquid heat between my legs.
Oh god, what if he’s huge?
Maybe that’s what Nelly meant? He has a great big dong, and it’s gonna hurt.
Maybe, as his roommate, she accidentally saw him naked when he didn’t realize she was home.
The jealousy at that scenario might make me insane, so I’m just going to pretend that’s not it.
His hands can’t go any lower, so I do the only thing my addled brain can think to do right now—unlatch my overalls and let them drop to the floor.
Chapter Twelve
Joaquin
The small triangle at the front of Jasmyn’s panties peeks out from under her oversized tee-shirt. Pure white cotton against tanned, strong legs. A tempting sight to make my rigid cock even harder.
Slowly, Jasmyn steps out of her overalls. She has no idea what it does to me to watch this slow surrender. My length presses painfully against the fly of my jeans.
Jasmyn undresses self-consciously, fidgeting with her hair and with the hem of her shirt. I absorb every bite of her bottom lip, every tremble of her fingers. The way her legs jiggle as she kicks the jeans out of the way, giving me the slightest peek at her inner thigh, then taking it away.
