Page 30 of Hostile Cravings
Shaking his head, he replied, “Trust me, I can fuck you more, but I know nobody’s ever taken you as much as I just did, so I’m giving you a break until I’m ready to take you again.” He had moved to the bed and crawled over me again, sliding his tongue along my body. Those embers deep in my belly burst to life again. I ran my fingers through his thick hair as he brought his mouth to mine, kissing me the way only Tyson kissed me: demanding, desperate, and delicious. My body automatically drew to his, my breasts squishing against his chest when his arm wrapped under me, pulling me closer.
Tyson wasn’t a gentle lover, he was aggressive and powerful, and I loved it. But this move had a gentleness to it, his kiss softening until it shifted back to the forceful side of him I expected.
He nipped at my lip, his hazel eyes dancing in the mid-morning light that coated the room. Lifting my fingers to the corner of his eyes, I traced his jawline, the move strikingly soft likehis kiss had been. It frightened me, just as I imagined the kiss had done to him, which was why he’d covered it quickly.
“What are we, Tyson?” I asked, thinking it wasn’t normal for two people to fear the intimacy that came with emotions that ran as deep as ours did.
A guarded look overtook his eyes, and he tried pulling away, but I wrapped my legs around him.
“Let me up, Angie. And get dressed.”
“Don’t change the subject,” I said. “It’s not an easy one for me, either.”
“Then drop it. We don’t need to be anything more than this.”
“But this isn’t what either of us considers normal, and you know that.”
His eyes searched mine, and I could see how uncomfortable I’d made him. We were too much alike to not notice, but what was happening inside of me, the way my heart had come alive, was something I couldn’t ignore no matter how much I wanted to.
“Let it go, Anj. I’ll take you to the beach.” He gave me a quick kiss and pushed my legs from him, leaving me on the bed.
“You’re an ass, Tyson,” I grumbled.
“Not anything you didn’t know. Now find another bathing suit, one that covers more skin, and let’s go.”
He walked out onto the balcony, scrolling on his phone. With a sigh, I rose from the bed, hobbling on my foot and cursing my ankle like I wanted to curse him.
“So, what now?” I asked as I pulled out my pink bikini, not caring that he wanted me covered up more. “We just go back to being enemies until you’re ready to fuck me again?”
He remained quiet, and I kept my back to him as I stepped into my bottoms. I was sure I’d pissed him off, but I didn’t care. I was good at pissing him off.
I felt his fingers on my neck before he turned me and thrust me into his body. His eyes were shadowed, his jaw clenched, the grip on my neck soaking me along with that steely gaze.
“What are you going to do, Tyson? Call me names, insult me to cover up what this is? If so, then let’s do that because I’m scared of what this is…as scared as you are, and I’m comfortable with your insults and your hatred.” My heart was pounding so loud it was thudding in my ears.
“You’re a bitch, Angie.”
“I’m a bitch you’ve now touched and can’t run from like you always do.” His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching more. “Just like I can’t run from you like I always do.”
He relaxed his grip on my neck and his fingers weaved through my hair.
“Neither of us knows how to do this, Tyson. And that’s okay.”
He pushed my face closer, kissing me as if the world was ending and this was our last kiss. It left me breathless, and when he released me, I teetered.
“That’s not what you’re planning to wear, is it?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just melted me into a useless puddle. “You look like a tramp.”
So that’s where we were going. Returning to what we’d been, the comfortable ease of nasty banter that let us avoid the situation, the feelings, the revelations we’d had.
“Too bad. Maybe I can pick up some real men while I’m out there,” I retorted playfully. “I hear they know how to make me come better than the boys I usually have sex with.”
His jaw clenched more, but his eyes sparkled with humor. Giving my ass a smack, he walked away, pouring himself a glass of liquor. When I finished dressing, I pulled a pair of heeled sandals from my bag.
“What the hell are those?”
“What do they look like, asshole?”
“No.” He took them from my hand and tossed them across the room.
