Page 46 of Banshee
“Irene.”
I startled at my mother’s voice. Twisting my head around, I found her grinning at me.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
She chuckled and lifted her finger to the corner of her mouth. “You got a little something dripping down your chin.”
I grabbed the pillow next to me and tossed it at her. “Shut up, he’s hot,” I said with a smile.
“He is. Banshee is thirty-six.”
I knew what she was saying. Fifteen years was a lot. I looked back toward the hallway.
“Just keep that in mind,” she said, walking away.
My father was almost fifty. That meant there were fewer years between him and Banshee than there were between me and Banshee. Not that it mattered. I slumped back against the couch. My father would never allow me to be with someone from a club.
Begrudgingly, I picked up my book and went back to studying. My eyes darted to the hallway every few minutes, waiting for Banshee to come back this way. He never did.
But I knew I would never forget him. He was branded on my prefrontal cortex. And I just knew that every man that came after him would never compare.
And I’d never even spoken to him, much less kissed him.
As I washed the dishes and thought about that first time, I heard the door close. Looking over my shoulder, Banshee held a brown paper bag, which he set on the table.
“What’s that?” I asked, turning back around to finish the dishes. He didn’t answer me; instead, he stepped behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist, leaning in to kiss my neck.
He’d been doing that a lot since our walk the other day. He’d randomly walk up behind me and wrap his arms around me, kissing my neck or the side of my head.
He’d also insisted on me sleeping in his bed, where he held me all night. He’d joked, saying it was the only way he could ensure I wouldn’t slip out the door in the middle of the night because he was too old to sleep on the couch.
He might be forty-five, but his body was still in peak condition. He might not have an eight-pack, or even a six-pack anymore, but he was hard in all the right places. Including the one that was currently pushed up against my ass.
He hadn’t touched me again, aside from holding me and kissing me. He never took it further, and I was beginning to wonder why.
“I had a prospect run out and grab a few things,” he said as he placed a small box on the counter next to me.
The sight of the box of condoms had the glass slipping from my hands and sinking back into the water that filled the sink. My panties were suddenly drenched at the thought of what that meant.
I bit my lip and looked over my shoulder. His smile was feral; his eyes filled with lust. His hand slid from my belly down to settle between my legs, and I shuddered.
“If you don’t want this, tell me no.”
I grabbed onto the edge of the sink. I’d needed something to hold me up as his words washed over me. My eyes closed as Banshee licked up my neck, taking my earlobe between his teeth.
“I need an answer, baby girl.”
One hand held my pussy, while the other burned a path up to my breast. He pinched my nipple, and I whimpered, leaning back against his broad chest. My arm reached around the back of his head and held him in place.
“Yes or no,” he whispered against my ear.
“Yes.” The word slipped out on a sigh.
Banshee spun me around and smashed his lips against mine. His hands held my hips as he ground his hardness against me. My arms slid around his neck and I lifted a leg to his hip. He grabbed it, holding it in place, then lifted the other so I could wrap them around him.
He set me on the sink behind me and trailed his lips down my neck to the V of my shirt. His hands pushed my breasts together, and he licked deeply into my cleavage before pulling the shirt down along with the cup of my bra and taking a nipple between his teeth.
I cried out, my hips bucking against him involuntarily. His own sounds came out somewhere between a growl and a groan as he lifted me and turned toward the bedroom.
