Page 32 of Wristlocked
“I thought you didn’t give a shit?”
He stares at me without responding for a long minute, then closes his eyes.
“I guess I don’t.” He gestures with his chin for the chick to make room and slides back into the booth when she obliges.
“You can go now, mate,” Campbell adds, still eyeing me with interest. “Unless you wanna give up the act and have a burger.”
“Maybe another time,” I reply, scooping my gear up off the floor and settling the heavy coils over my shoulder. “I’ve got plans for tonight.”
Back in the lounge, I hesitate, still buzzing with restless tension. Maybe she went to the pool? The sun is nearly down, and the October nights are too cold now for swimming, but she could be in the weight room or the hot tub. My blood simmers at the thought of Gia wet in a bikini, steam rising from her freckled skin. But before I head out on a possible wild goose chase, I might as well drop the chains off in my room and stop lugging them around.
I skip the elevator and take the stairs two at a time, letting the burn in my thighs and the chains digging into my shoulders stoke the simmer to a full boil. My head is full of Gia’s lithe, gorgeous limbs, marked and tangled, and the bruises from our earlier workout waiting to be exploited. When I burst into the eighth-floor hallway and see her, cross-legged on the floor outside my door like a fucking mirage conjured from my dark fantasies, I stop cold.
She showered. The moisture from her damp curls is soaking through her white tank top, and the hard peaks of her nipples are visible from halfway down the hall. Her baggy blue sweatpants hang low on her hips, exposing an agonizing strip of her inked abdomen when she climbs to her feet at my approach.
All the blood in my brain rushes to my cock, the tangle of rage and lust inside me morphing into something layered and inescapable and terrifying. Somehow, I manage to make my legs function and walk up to her.
“Did you come to fight? Or fuck?”
“Neither. I came to see if you were okay.”
I narrow my eyes, and she takes half a step back before she catches herself. “And to find out why you were such an asshole earlier.”
God, she burns fucking brilliant. I want to gather every swirling spark of her soul and bury them in the coals of my heart.
“Both, then. Perfect.” I lift the chains from my shoulders and drape them around her neck, closing the distance between us.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands, trying to push me away.
“Did you think you could show up here all concerned and soothe me? I don’t need your fucking pity, Laurent.”
“Are you serious? When have I ever fucking tried tosootheyou?”
“So what, then? You needed to satisfy your curiosity? What does Gale Shepard look like after a scolding?”
“You think that’s what I want? To satisfy mycuriosity? It’s not curiosity, Gale, it’sobsession.How can I stay away when you radiate rage like a fucking beacon, and all I want is for you to let it off its leash and consume me.”
She’s not a flame, she’s a fucking wildfire, and I want to watch the world burn from inside her body.
I let go of the chains and plunge my hands into her hair, dragging her up onto her toes by her skull and the curve of her jaw. Last time she let me plunder her mouth. This time she kisses back, twining her arms around my neck and stealing my breath like it’s the only thing keeping her alive. Her tongue is hot and sweet in my mouth, and her hands are everywhere, nails dragging along my scalp and down my arms, spilling over to slip under the hem of my shirt and trace the V at my hips. The chains slip and twist between us, and I grind mercilessly against her, fumbling in my back pocket for my room key.
I finally get the door open, and we fall through, losing the chains in the process. The momentum carries us straight into the opposite wall. Her hands are in my hair again, and I can taste her heartbeat on my tongue. I can’t remember the last time I was this hard, and I have to get a grip before I come in my pants like a fucking teenager.
Fisting a hand in her tangled strands, I relinquish the wet heat of her mouth and yank her head back, bringing a gasp to her lips. Her shoulders arch and her nipples strain against the edge of her tank top as I tug, baring her throat to my teeth. When I shove my other hand down the front of her sweatpants and cup her cunt, her arousal floods my fingers, and she spreads her thighs with a moan that goes straight to my balls. I raise my head to stare down at her upturned face.
“Eyes open,” I growl. “I want you to watch me take you apart.”
She opens her eyes and gives me everything I can take.
I slip two fingers inside her, and she’s so fucking wet and tight, it steals my breath. When I actually get to stretch her around my cock, I might lose my fucking mind. She tilts her hips, bringing one leg up to wrap around my hip and giving me better access. Watching the shadows of arousal play across her face, I work her slow and thorough, as deep as I can reach. Each time I withdraw, I twist my fingers, pillaging every inch of her, and when I return, I grind the knuckles of my other hand into the small of her back.
The sounds she makes are fucking lethal. Her lashes flutter shut as I brush my thumb across her clit. Withdrawing my fingers, I pinch the swollen nub hard enough that she bucks against me with a cry.
“Stay with me, sweetheart.” I go back to slow circles, teasing her entrance with each pass of my thumb.
“Please.” A whisper through the strain of her vaulted throat. I could drown in the dark sea of her gaze.
I pinch her again and dive back into her heat, adding a third finger and increasing the pace. Holding her captive with my fist at her back and my thigh between her legs, I release all of tonight’s savage tension into her willing body like a corrupt god. Within seconds, her slick walls start to pulse around my fingers. My need condenses to the rough hitch of my own breath, her nails scraping along the wall, and the decadent sounds her drenched pussy makes under my hand. And then my name spills from her lips like a filthy prayer, and I watch the world unravel in her eyes.
