Page 18 of The Satyr's Guilt
“Never wear one. Too snug. Shows my junk.Gotta keep it hidden, but you can take it out of my pants for aspin. You might want to get on your knees first.”
“Cher, if I sucked your dick … on myknees … you’d blow up like a beach ball and explode.” Good lord.Where was this talk coming from? She’d grabbed his frickin’ penis.Sure, it was in his expensive wool trousers, but still. Of course,she’d never tell him the truth. His dick was enormous, hard. What’sworse, she wanted it, but she wasn’t getting on her knees for him.Not now. Not ever.
“Enough foreplay, doll. The Shed has roomsin the rear. How about we finish our convo in one of them?” He tooka swig of beer. “Unless things are moving too fast for you.”
“They are. And I love things real slow,satyr.” She licked her lips, leaned forward onto her elbows, andlet Ram look down the front of her shirt. “Slow lane slow. Molassesslow.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Slow like a Southern drawlon a hot sultry night in the bayou.”
He grinned. The nerve.
The satyr unfolded from the chair, all sixand a half feet of pure masculine grace. He offered an assist. “Alittle chat to get to know each other. A little petting before thebig show. Then slow in. Slow out, doll. Repeat. Until youweep.”
She did not grab his outstretched palm. “Sityour ass down. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Before he could sound off, she held up ahand. “Don’t speak. You are a gorgeous man until you fly off at themouth.”
“Make up your mind.” He puzzled his brows.“You run hot and cold.”
He was right, but she couldn’t seem to helpit around him. “See? Your talking is ruining the effect. Do yourlines usually work?”
After he lowered his ass into the seatagain, he took a long pull on his beer. “Always. I’m a satyr.”
“What’s that mean anyway? Is it an excuse tobe a player?”
“Pretty much. It’s our breed. It’s our role.It can get wearing to have so much responsibility on my shoulders.The females have expectations.”
They sat mute, tilting their beer bottlesback, swallowing.
Galena returned, looking from Ram to Denim.She chugged what was left of her warm brew, grabbing her friend bythe elbow. “Sounds like I arrived in the nick of time. Let’s dance.I need to burn energy.”
Denim shot Ram her best brush-off smile,heading onto the dance floor, shouting over her shoulder, “Bye-bye.Good luck with someone else,cher.”
Galena pulled her partner over to yell inher ear. “It won’t hurt to hand satyr-boy a little rejection. He sorarely gets it.”
When the DJ played TI’s “Big ThingsPoppin’,” Denim added bounce and extra hip to her routine.
Ram strode off with barely a peek over hisshoulder.
She watched his mountainous shouldersdipping with each stride, the muscles in his tight ass flexing, hispowerful legs carrying him away. He was one beautiful man even ifhe was a misogynistic horndog. The backroom. Really?
Hah!
Galena tapped Denim’s arm, arching herbrows.
“Just looking,” Denim shot back over theheavy beat of the music.
Galena was right. Ram wasn’t Steven. Hedidn’t break bones. Worse. He broke hearts.A broken heart neverheals.So why did he stir her emotions?
Chapter Five
Ram stuck a hand into hispocket while he glanced over his shoulder at the bewildering human.Her scent told him she’d definitely been aroused. In fact, he’dfed. Ingesting her sexual excitement was so overwhelming he almostjerked away.
She’d shut him down, though. Here he thoughthe’d been charming, hardly a crass comment passing over hislips.
The females he hooked up with were obligingAeternals who weren’t fragile. Satyr snack candy. He sure didn’twant a human who thought she was tough because she was an Allianceagent who could handle a man with a few Muay Thai moves. An easilybroken, sexy human. A mouthy human who wasn’t so obliging.
Hmm. What a mouth.
It could be useful. Especially if it waswide open while he shoved his dick inside, pumping in and out,accompanied by a loud song with a heavy beat and her throatymoans.
