Asha King (7 page)

Somehow, even with all the people in there, it managed to be cooler than it had been outside. Of course, her fading arousal and distance from its cause probably had something to do with that.

She snatched another beer from the cooler where it sat in a melting clump of ice and took a long drink, emptying half of it in one gulp. The partygoers might think she was an alcoholic but at that moment, she didn’t damn well care.

The screen door opened and slammed again as Adam stalked inside; she braced, waiting for him to approach her, but instead he turned the corner and stormed upstairs.

Guilt washed through her swiftly. Maybe she hurt his feelings. Like, if he had any. At the very least, she probably wounded his pride. Did he not know, then, how badly she wanted him? That her lips were all but trembling with the desire to feel his touch.

She took another sip of her beer and it didn’t cool her down at
all
as her gaze turned upward, thinking of him upstairs alone.

Chapter Nine

Adam stomped up the last of the stairs and into his room, kicked at the door behind him, and paced across the floor. The door latch didn’t catch, but he was only dimly aware of it as he crossed the length of the space. Only his bathroom was separate—the rest of the apartment was open concept, everything he needed there in the one large room.

Well, not
everything
.

His cock strained against his jeans, his temper was fuming, and he couldn’t get the sight of Danyiah’s full, berry painted lips out of his mind. Fucking Dewey had to interrupt them—just had to—but he should probably be grateful. If he’d actually tasted her or held her lush curves, he knew exactly where the night would’ve ended up...

Her in his bed, screaming his name with her knees thrown over his shoulders.

He could see it, too, right now as he glanced toward his bed. The sheets were askew, and the light over the tall dresser spilled pale yellow over the crème-colored comforter. She’d be on her back, spine arching, hands reaching back to grip the wrought iron bars of the headboard. Her head would throw back, dark hair spilled across the pillow, and her lips would part in a cry of ecstasy.

His blood was pumping hotly, erection almost painful, chest heaving. Shit. He couldn’t take it.

And why should he? He was in his room. Alone. The others downstairs busy and far from his mind. Visions of Danyiah played in his head—in her tight tank top and skirt sitting low on her hips.

Adam slipped his T-shirt off and cast it onto the dresser, dragging his gaze up and down the bed, envisioning her there. Almost absently, his right hand dropped down to drift over his erection, easing the pressure on it for a moment. Jesus, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this hard, this riled up. He deftly popped the top button of his jeans and hauled down the zipper, eased the front of his boxers down, groaning as his cock sprang free.

He might not last long, and he didn’t give a damn—maybe he’d finally sleep. Maybe he’d be just a little less wound up tomorrow.

Maybe he’d get her out of his head.

He worked his fingers up and down the length once, just lightly at first, teasing. Imagined her plump lips dragging over the head, her big brown eyes gazing up at him. He groaned again and wrapped his fist around his cock, firmer this time.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, this would all be over—tomorrow he’d be himself again, if he really gave in to these fantasies tonight. He’d have her out of his system.

He turned and sat, pumping his hand up and down his cock, eyes half-lidded. She’d been so soft up against him. There had been none of that in his world for so long—no sweet scented skin, no satiny flesh. And deep down, he knew the truth of it: there would
be
no getting her out of his mind, his dreams. He’d never get his fill.

God, he wanted her.

In the haze of his arousal, visions of her distracting him, the creak of the stairs didn’t register in his mind—not until the door opened in his peripheral vision.

Adam’s heart stopped as he looked up.

Dani stood there, lips parted, eyes wide, hand still on the doorknob.

Shit.

Shit!

He swallowed thickly, his hand stilling. Her gaze traveled over him, just a sweep of her eyes over his body, and her cheeks darkened beautifully. A thousand and one thoughts were going through his head and his chest heaved with terror.

And arousal.

Why was she still standing there?

Adam cleared his throat. “You don’t knock?”

Dani yelped and clasped her hands over her eyes. “I’m sorry! I...um...” She stammered for a moment and started to turn.

And he didn’t want her to. Something warmed his blood further at the thought of her watching him jerk off, eyes roaming him. He wanted her to stay. Wanted to see where this would go. Another vision of her sprawled over his bed entered his mind unbidden and he stiffened further.

So he made a split second decision and rose, fist still wrapped around his dick. He’d push her. Maybe she’d run—again—and that would be it.

But maybe she wouldn’t.

“You, ‘um’, what? Thought you’d drop by? Enter a man’s room without knocking? Something you were hoping to see, princess?”

“I, uh...” She started to lift her hand, saw that he was still exposed, and squeaked as she covered her eyes again. “I’m sorry. I just came up ’cause you seemed pissed...”

“And thought you’d stay for a show?” He was two feet away from her now, his heart thudding hard though he tried to seem calm.

She dropped her hand and glared straight at him. “Screw you! And pull your goddamn pants up!”

He grinned as he got closer and her eyes widened again. He swept his gaze over her and watched her nipples harden under his attention, poking through her shirt as if the room was cold. “It’s my room. I can stand here buck naked if I damn well feel like it.”

As if to prove his point, he kicked off his jeans, standing in front of her completely naked and erect.

Work on Monday was going to be
really
awkward if this didn’t pan out.

“You’re still here, Jackson,” he said in a low voice, watching her lose the battle and lower her gaze over him again. “Any particular reason why?”

“I...” She swallowed, breasts rising and falling as she panted. “Um.”

“Tell me something.” He was inches away from her now and breathed in the scent of her shampoo and body wash, a rare breath of strawberries and vanilla in a world of leather and animal smells. “Are you wet right now?”

She breathed heavily, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Hmm?” he prompted, moving in close. “Are you?”

She chewed at her bottom lip, eyes narrowing into a glare.

“You might not like me very well, but you want me, don’t you, princess?”

She didn’t confirm or deny, which in a way stung—he
wanted
her to like him, wanted it to be more than just physical.

But he could barely see straight this close to her and he’d settle for physical for the time being. Gladly.

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” she said at last.

Especially since I don’t have any condoms and I’m not going to holler downstairs and see if anyone has one
. “No, you’re not,” he said.
But you’re still here.
“Not yet, anyway. But for now...” Adam crowded her as she backed against the wall by his door—his door which was still open, which she could leave through at any moment. “I’d like you to stay awhile. No sex. Just...play.”

Her eyes were heavy lidded and drowsy, and gasping breaths passed her parted lips. “Play?”

Adam thought fast. “A game.” His gaze moved down her pointedly—over her breasts, her taut belly, to her skirt or at least what it covered. “You close the door. Take off your panties. Drag those fingers over that pretty pussy of yours until you come. I get to watch. If you get off first, I win. I get off first, you win.”

She hadn’t said no yet. Hadn’t left. Just stared at him, corners of her mouth flickering up as if she liked the challenge and her pink tongue darted out to lick her lips.

“What do you say, Jackson?” He gave his dick a long, much needed thrust against his fist again and bit back a groan. “Dare to play?”

****

What the hell am I doing
?!

Going insane,
that
was what she was doing. Plus drenching her panties. She was ready to orgasm just listening to him.

She should run. Fast. Out the door, down the steps, away from the building and back to the house. Sure, she’d lock herself in her room and probably not sleep until she put the ache between her legs to rest, but he didn’t have to know that.

Though she guessed he already did.

“What’s the winner get?”
Did I just say that?

His mouth relaxed, gaze focusing on her lips. “Get?”

She focused on his eyes, not his broad shoulders. Or strong arms. Or defined chest and abs. Or huge cock jutting toward her. “Games have winners, winners get prizes.” Her voice was breathless, husky, and she couldn’t help it.

“How about...loser has to do something of the winner’s choice?”

Dani didn’t think he meant cleaning out a horse stall.

It wasn’t sex. Not really. Not with him. It was just...doing what she’d be doing in the privacy of her own room later—what she’d failed to finish last night. Except now in front of him. Watching him touch himself.

Oh God
.

Dani turned and wrapped her hand around the door handle, taking a deep breath. She stared out into the short dark hall outside of his room and the stairs beyond. She vaguely heard the thrum of music and laughter just downstairs.

Heart beating hard, she closed the door and snapped the lock.

I can’t believe I just did that
.

She chanced a look over her shoulder at him. He stared at her almost warily, as if he half expected her not to go through with it. A flush of boldness ran through her, the idea of him being thrown off kilter giving her some strength.

“You got a head start,” she said as she slipped off her sandals.

“Next time it’s yours.”

And there would be a next time. She’d just stepped off into the abyss and knew there was no going back.

Her gaze scanned the room, taking it in for the first time. It was clean but untidy, the bed sheets messed and things strewn across the dresser. A tiny kitchen at the end, a couch and TV not far from it. He had a desk off to the side and a wingback chair, which she moved toward immediately. She wanted somewhere to sit but no way was she going near his bed or the couch. That would lead to trouble.

She was acutely aware of him at her back, watching her, and tried to still the trembling in her fingertips as she reached her chair. Her hand ran over the back, then she lifted and pulled it back two feet, turning it around to face the center of the room. She eyed him next—still fully erect and impossibly huge. His body was a work of art, sculpted and hard—literally every inch of him. Half of her wanted to fall on her knees and take him in her mouth.

Well, maybe
all
of her did.

She swallowed and glanced back at his eyes. “No touching?”

“No touching,” he agreed.

That’ll be easier said than done.

Dani dragged her fingers down her sides to clasp the edge of her tank top. In the quiet of the room, just their ragged breathing and the sounds of flesh on flesh, she heard the buzz of music downstairs—country. The music of mood-killers.

“Can they hear us downstairs?” she asked as she rounded the chair.

Adam cocked a brow. “You loud?”

“I can be. When inspired.”

He groaned and cleared his throat, and went for the old radio on the nightstand. It was tuned to country but he changed it before she could ask, settling on R&B.

Dani took a deep breath and slowly dragged her tank top upward.

The fabric skimmed her stomach, up, up, and over her breasts, giving her nipples a slight tingle as it passed. Already his gaze was on her chest, hands clenched as his sides. His cheeks flushed and breathing went ragged.

She squeezed her thighs together. He was trying to hold off, but she’d take care of that.

She wiggled out of her long skirt, letting it puddle at her feet before she kicked it aside. Her legs were long and shapely, curved in a way men liked—she knew, she’d had plenty of compliments on them. Her bra and panties were both cotton candy pink lace, matching. She dropped to sit on the chair, settling comfortably, and grazed her fingers up her thighs.

His gaze followed everywhere her hands did and she decided to be a bitch and really push him. Her hands moved up, over her stomach, coming to grasp her breasts. She tilted her head back and moaned, rolling her pebbled nipples between her fingers and thumbs. Her flesh was fevered and swollen, craving touch—anyone’s touch—though she couldn’t help but imagine his rough, calloused hands rubbing her into a frenzy, just as she had last night.

“Eyes open.” His voice cut through the haze and she glanced back at him. “New rule. No thinking about anyone not in this room.”

Was that jealousy, perhaps? She grinned, still working her nipples. “That goes for you too.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, princess.” He swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as his gaze continued to follow her movements.

“Then maybe you don’t, either.”

He leaned back against the dresser, hand coming up to grasp his cock at last. “Tell me,” he said in a rough whisper.

She shivered at the sound of his voice. “Just you. Your hands on my tits. That’s as far as I got...this time.”

Adam raised a brow. “Meaning?”

“Mmm...wouldn’t you like to know.”

He groaned, hand moving faster.

Her hips were undulating and she gave in; she pulled her feet up to rest on the edge of the seat, thigh splaying wide. She let her bra strap fall and left hand moved in to squeeze and touch her bare breast while her right drifted down. Down. Over her stomach. The edge of her panties. She bit her lip and dragged her index finger over her pussy, the lace adding friction against her clit. She moaned at the contact.

“Be fair,” she said, her voice breathy. “What had you so worked up before I got in here?”

“How about I show you when I win?”

She grinned and plunged her fingers past the leg band, sinking into her own damp heat. She was slick, fingertips gliding easily. Her hips bucked and breath came in a whimper.

His cock strained toward his navel and a pearl of pre-come rose on the tip of the flushed head. She imagined it parting her labia, thrusting into her, and her pussy ached with want. His free hand came down to caress his sac while the other wove up and down his hard length.

She couldn’t take it. She grasped the waistband of her panties and dragged them down her thighs, over her knees, and cast them on the floor. The air was heavy with the scent of their joint arousal, noise from downstairs long gone under the sound of music from his radio and the hitching breaths between them.

When she slid her ass to the edge of the seat and let her thighs fall wide apart, he crossed the four feet between them. Her heart hammered—if he touched her now, she’d let him. Forget the rules.

But he stopped short by the chair and dropped onto his knees, fist a blurred frenzy over his cock. Sweat brought a sheen to his brow and dampened his thick dark hair. He’d been clean-shaven earlier but now there was just enough rough hair started to make him rugged and impossibly sexy—she imagined the feel of his face against her thighs as his tongue would lap at her wetness.

“Hold your pussy open,” he whispered in a voice that seemed to go right into her marrow.

Oh God, she couldn’t take much more.

She didn’t care who won, who lost. Forgot all about the game. Both hands moved between her legs now, one holding back her folds, the other thrusting two fingers in and out. It was a poor substitute for what she wanted there, but in a moment she wouldn’t care.

She felt his panting breath there, inches from her thighs, brushing her skin. Fingers still thrusting inside her, her other hand rose to trace her clit and her body jolted with the feeling. Sensitive, ready to burst, she rubbed her clit more firmly this time and her hips rocked.

His dark gaze lifted, smoldering eyes meeting hers.

Shivers danced over her and a ball of warmth burst in her belly, blasting ecstasy through her veins. Her lips parted and she cried out, hips lifting off the chair, fingers working swiftly at her clit and wringing one long, unraveling orgasm out of her overheated body.

Just as she slumped in the chair, stars still playing behind her eyes, Adam groaned and a jet of white come shot across his stomach and chest. He leaned forward heavily, panting, head tilted down for a moment before gazing up at her with self-satisfied eyes. Then he moved up her body, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair to lift himself, and his lips
at last
touched hers.

The kiss was long and hot, tongues warring almost as soon as their mouths made contact. She moaned against him, her lips feeling like they’d been aching all this time just waiting for his. Their noses brushed and she inhaled, breathing him in, enjoying the feel of his possessive kiss.

They parted, panting anew, and if he’d asked her right then to hop in his bed, she would’ve raced him there. Instead he dropped back down, sitting in front of the chair where her legs were rather obscenely spread, and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, setting her nerves alight.

Adam grinned. “I win.”