Page 77 of Lethal Threat
The determination on her face says we’re about to go head to head. “I know you’re worried about leaving me. And I appreciate your concern. But I’m really fine to spend a night alone. It’s one night, Cole. I mean, where else would I go?”
I consider that for a few seconds, as I have for the last couple of days. “You could stay at my parents' place.”
A challenging light brightens her eyes. “Or I could just call them if anything comes up.”
I close my eyes. Shit. “You love to debate.”
“Do I?”
When I open my eyes, a sly grin is tipping up the corner of her pretty mouth.
Vixen.
I grab her and flip her under me before she can move. “Yes, you do. Just like you like to have sex.”
She nips at my lower lip. “I’m beginning to like this person that I am.”
“How’s your back feeling?”
Smiling, she wiggles against me. “All lights are go.”
Cupping her ass in my hand, I press my growing erection against her. My jeans barely restrain the beast. She makes me hard with a look, so when she says naughty, playful words, I’m sprung in seconds.
I groan as I press against the vee of her legs. “Good, because I’m ready to feel you beneath me.”
Her hands go to my jeans. With determination, she starts pulling the button. “Show me what you can do, big guy.”
“Careful there. I’ve got a serious case of greedy lust going on these days. All I want to do is make your body mine.”
She goes still beneath me.
Heat sweeps up her neck, coloring her cheeks a sexy shade of pink, like roses in springtime. Her voice comes out in the husky whisper I remember so well, the one that makes my cock stand at attention. “Then do.”
But her words don’t just jack my testosterone, they crack my chest open.
Make her mine.
There’s no more talk. Half our clothes are still on when I thrust myself inside of her as raging desire crackles below my skin.
Her fingernails bite into my back as she arches into my strokes.
Sogood. Sohot.
Heaven above, all I want is to stay buried deep inside of her forever.
I want her here forever.
On my couch, sitting with me as the Christmas lights burn and Bing Crosby sings about a White Christmas.
I dip my head to the cord of her neck. The skin goose-bumps beneath my mouth as I murmur her name there. “Sierra, beautiful Sierra.”
When I pull back and thrust hard into her, she cries out. Her sweet whimpers fill the room, drowning out Bing’s voice.
I could die right now and go a very happy man.
She shouts out, “Ah! Please…”
Waves of pleasure twist her body as her climax builds. I’m on the same fast-moving train.
