Page 47 of Property of Tacoma
“Yeah,” I agree, leaning against the door frame. “They’re the best things I’ve ever done.”
She turns to face me, and something passes between us—something that should freak me the fuck out but instead feels right.
Having her here, in my home, feels right.
I cross the threshold and close the door behind me. No sooner does the lock click than she’s on me, launching herself into my arms.
I catch her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist as her mouth crashes into mine.
“Fuck,” I groan as her sexy black boots dig into the back of my thighs.
I knew she’d be a wildcat, but I didn’t expect her level of need to match my own.
Tangling my fingers in her hair, I tug her head back, exposing the column of her throat.
I latch onto the side of her neck and sink my teeth into the flesh, marking her.
She moans, the sound going straight to my cock. “God, yes.”
I soothe the spot with my tongue, and she grinds her pussy against the hardness straining against my jeans.
Carrying her down the hallway to my bedroom, I kick the door shut behind us.
I set her back on her feet and yank her shirt over her head, taking my time to admire what’s revealed.
I’ve never seen anything more magnificent.
Her black lace bra struggles to contain her perfect tits, and I lick my lips in anticipation.
“Fuck, baby,” I growl, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra with practiced ease. It falls away, and I groan at the sight of her unbound breasts. “The things I’m going to do to this body.”
Jesus, I can hardly wait.
Her hands go to my cut, pushing it off my shoulders. I grab it before it can fall to the floor, and toss it on the dresser. She reaches for my t-shirt and I help her pull it over my head.
Her eyes widen at the sight of my tattooed chest, her fingers tracing the outline of the eagle stretching across my pecs.
“Your turn,” I say, reaching for the button on her leather pants. They’re so tight I have to peel them off her, but the view is worth it—black lace panties that match her bra, and legs that go on for days.
“Christ,” I mutter, running my hands up her thighs. “Look at you.”
A raw, urgent need is building between us as she works on my belt, and I kick off my boots.
When she finally gets my jeans down, her eyes widen at the sight of my cock standing at attention.
“Is that a...” She trails off, staring at my piercing.
“Prince Albert,” I confirm with a smirk. “Problem?”
She shakes her head, her eyes hungry. “Definitely not a problem.”
I step forward, backing her toward the bed. “On your knees,” I command softly.
Something flashes in her eyes—excitement, challenge, surrender—and she does as I say, dropping to her knees in front of me.
“Good girl,” I praise, cupping her cheek. “Now show me what that pretty mouth can do.”
She leans forward, her tongue flicking out to taste the head of my cock.
