Page 65 of Rogue Mission
There’s a breathless moment when I think he’s going to kiss me, but I’m not sure. So I press up on my tip toes and brush my lips over his jaw.
Along his neck until he groans softly.
I want to make him feel as good as he does me so I’m delighted when I look at him again, finding his eyes are closed, his lips are slightly parted.
The shape of his mouth is in an invitation I take, stepping into this new me.
His fingers flex hard against my hip when I slide my tongue across his. My goodness, he tastes wild tonight.
The ridge in his cargo pants is wild too. It seems even bigger somehow.
Tingles race down my limbs, up again and settle into my clit. My knees clench, the points of my nipples throbbing in time with my pulse.
The levels of desire I feel for this man are shocking.
As I kiss him, he holds perfectly still, letting me take what I need.
Until the energy around him shifts, a growl full of lust vibrating his chest. “Fuck. You’re killing me with those sweet kisses, honey.”
“What if I do this?”
My fingers slowly walk down the ridges and valleys of his chest, taking time to explore the trail of dark, coarse hair above his waistband.
Justice’s body is hard, rough, scarred, and absolutely perfect.
He grabs my wrist, stopping my exploration. “If you want that shower, you better go.”
“Come with me?” I ask breathlessly, exploring the mind-blowing contours of muscle that form a vee, leading into the hidden land of treasure below his briefs.
“Are you sure?” He asks, tipping my chin up until we’re face to face again. “Because I’m not sure I can be a gentleman.”
When I tug open the fly of his pants, I let the smile inside me play out. “Who said I want a gentleman?”
He scoops me up, stopping outside an over-sized, double-head shower to lower me to my feet. With one hand he flips on the water, the other he somehow drops his pants and briefs.
But when I reach for the hem of the convenience store dress I’m still wearing, he growls at me, a hungry light glinting in his brown eyes. “That’s my job.”
My brows go up, but he wastes no time grabbing the neckline of the dress. “I’m buying you something nice, like you deserve.”
And with that declaration, he rips the dress straight down the middle, all the way to the hem.
My mouth falls open in a shocked laugh. “All right then. I hope you have something for me to wear.”
“The house is stocked,” he rumbles, his mouth finding the pulse in my neck where he bites me hard enough to make me tingle all over.
“Shower. Now.” His command is gravelly.
Justice does everything with purpose including shower.
He’s clinically precise about washing my hair.
Conditions every strand like his life depends on it too.
I’m grinning when he drags me out, wraps me in a towel and carries me to the bed.
“A girl could get spoiled by this, you know. And you were a total gentleman.”
“It was hard. And you don’t know spoiled. Wait til I get you off on my tongue.”
