Page 80 of Hang the Moon
“Do you want something to drink?” she asked, praying he’d say no, still feeling compelled to be polite. “Water? Coffee?”
His lips curved in a smirk and the wordspanty droppingflashed like a neon sign inside her head. “If I wanted coffee, could you even make it?”
She huffed. “Doubtful.”
His smile grew and her knees trembled. “I don’t want coffee, Annie.”
He pressed off the door and stalked toward her. Her heart raced.
She backed in the direction of her room, encouraging him down the hall. “Whatdoyou want?”
“Short answer?” His long legs ate up the distance between them until he was so close she had to crane her neck to stare up at him as she tripped into the guest room she called home. “You.”
He closed the door carefully and she took the chance to kick off her heels. They landed just shy of the closet and she could’ve wept with relief that they hadn’t clattered against the louvered doors.
He turned the lock and her stomach somersaulted. The ache between her legs intensified, the heat in her veins growing hotter.
“Long answer?” she whispered.
Beneath his boyish grin and dimples, something daring flashed in his eyes. “I want you for longer than tonight.”
Her heartbeat sped. She swallowed hard and laughed, breathless. “You haven’t even had me once and you’re already thinking about round two?”
He stared. “Annie.”
She wet her lips, not knowing what to say in the face of his radical honesty. Honesty that could’ve sent her running for the hills. Honesty he had to have known could’ve brought this all to a total standstill, and yet he’d said it anyway. Her knees trembled and she locked them so she wouldn’t visibly shake.
“But if you meant tonight, specifically,” he said, “then what I want would depend on what you want.”
The intensity of his gaze emboldened her, maybe not to quite the same level of vulnerability he’d displayed, but to tell the truth, nonetheless. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to die if you don’t touch me.”
He reached out, tucking her hair behind her ear. His hand lingered near her jaw, the friction of his fingers sweeping over her skin driving her wild, her thoughts spiraling to what his caress would feel like against the rest of her. “Touch you?”
She rested her hands on his stomach, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, bunching it in her hands as she yanked it free from his pants. “As a start.”
He slid his hand around the back of her neck and buried his fingers in her hair, tugging gently, drawing her eyes back to his. “And then?”
Her lips curled. “That would depend on what you want.”
His grip on her hair tightened, making her gasp, then whimper. Heat slithered down her body and settled between her thighs.
“I want to hear you make more of those sounds.” His hands glided down her sides, over her dress to where the silk split. Brendon’s fingertips made maddening little circles on the outside of her bare thigh. His tongue darted out, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “I want to be the one who makes you make those sounds.”
Her breath sped, growing shallow.
“You want to know what I want? More than anything?”
Yes.She slipped her hands under the bottom of his shirt and pressed her palms to the warm, bare skin of his stomach. He shuddered and his short, blunt nails scraped against the skin of her outer thigh. “Tell me.”
He leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I want to bury my face between your thighs and make yousing, Annie. I want to taste you. I want to—”
He broke off with a low groan and she swayed into him, suddenly dizzy. All the blood in her body had rushed south, leaving little for her head.
He walked her backward, and when her knees hit the edge of the bed, they buckled, sending her sprawling atop the mattress.
He followed her down, boxing her in with an arm on either side of her head. He held himself up over her, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the light spilling from beneath the lampshade, leaving him backlit, shadowed. He dropped his head and pressed his forehead against hers, their noses bumping. “Can I? God, Annie. Please.”
She wiggled beneath him, arching up, pressing her body against his. He gritted his teeth, a sharp exhale sliding out from between his lips. He was hard, his cock pressing against her hip through his pants, and she shuddered, her breath leaving her mouth in a broken pant.
