Authors: Kylie Scott
“Stop it,” she said.
“So Tim wouldn’t go down on you and Brandon couldn’t get you off, hmm?” He gave her a grim smile and rocked against her, rubbing against her pussy. Only the thin material of his sweatpants and the even thinner flannel of her pajama bottoms stood between them. “What did you expect, with a name like ‘Brandon’?”
“Because ‘Nick’ is so manly.”
He’d have laughed if his dick wasn’t killing him. “Why do you think you never stayed with any of them for more than five minutes? What’s your take on that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Get off me.” Her hips shuffled sideward, or attempted to, but she wasn’t escaping him. Next she dug in her heels and tried to push him off. All that did was open her legs up more to him. The sudden hike in her brows when she realized it was priceless. “Don’t.”
“Two, three dates and you lost interest.”
“Or they did. Stop, damn it.” Her hand flailed for the headboard but that wouldn’t help her either. “Nick.”
“You think they lost interest?”
“Generally that’s what it means when people don’t text you back or ask you out again.”
“Why?”
She shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she still wouldn’t look at him. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know the right things to say.”
“Hmm. Maybe. But none of them really did it for you, anyway.” He stared at her pretty, screwed-up face, thinking it over. “Even Craig the footballer didn’t turn you on, despite the hot body.”
“Much like you, Nick,” she sneered, all bravado. Pity he didn’t believe it for a minute. He was getting to her. The nipples poking into his chest and the way her body had begun to vibrate beneath him confirmed it. “Get the fuck off me.”
“That sounded like a challenge to me.”
Panic filled her eyes. “No. No, it wasn’t.”
“Mm.”
Back and forth he stroked her with the length of his hard cock. So good he could barely believe it. Molten heat poured through him. He wanted to close his eyes, savor the moment, but he didn’t. Ros stared back at him in dawning horror, which seemed to be her go-to look with him. Never mind. He was determined to make her feel lots of other things. Good things, starting now.
“Those morons didn’t know the first thing about pleasing you,” he said. “They let you down, didn’t they?”
The woman slammed her eyes shut, locking him out. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t shut out his voice.
“I won’t disappoint you, Ros. I won’t let you down.”
Her breath hitched, loudly, followed fast by the clench of her jaw. His mind reeled, trying to take her in. Talk about sensory fucking overload. The feel of her soft breasts caught between them, cushioning his chest, and the tease of her hard nipples. No amount of material could hide them. She smelled so good. If she’d have let him, he’d have stripped her out of those ugly, bulky clothes and licked her from top to toe. Rubbed himself against her, skin to skin. Blood rushed to his throbbing cock, as if he wasn’t hard enough. But skin to skin wasn’t happening. Not yet.
Her voice tightened and her wrists tugged against his hold. “Nick.” She licked her lips and her gaze roved again from side to side, looking for an out. “Wait. Listen to me.”
“No. You’re not talking me out of this.”
Already he could have come. Heat licked up his spine and the sensation grew, deep in his gut. No. This was all about her, but the pressure and the friction were perfect. His balls inched higher and his blood surged hot. He pressed his knees into the mattress, working himself against her, watching her carefully to gauge her reaction. Neither too hard nor too gentle worked best. Could have sworn he could smell her sweet cunt, her arousal. Because she was aroused, there was no hiding it.
“You had polite sex with Craig, because you thought you should. Sounds bloody awful,” he said. “I’ll make you a promise here and now that we are never having polite sex. Over my dead body.”
“You have to stop,” she pleaded, body arching beneath him, writhing against the mattress. Because her body knew what her mind didn’t want to admit. And he read her body perfectly.
God, he’d been watching her constantly for weeks now, learning her. Watching the way she touched herself, whether it was wrapping her arms around her chest or pushing back her hair. All the little expressions she made. She thought too much. Her diary confirmed it. Those other idiots she’d let touch her hadn’t been able to get her in the moment. Hadn’t really tried, or had lacked the patience. He wouldn’t make the same mistake.
“You’ve been pretty stressed lately. I think you need this,” he said, sounding far calmer than he felt. Her breathing sped up and he could see her pulse, beating hard in the side of her slender neck. That pulse point right there beneath the skin. Nothing could stop him from kissing her there, from pressing his lips lightly against it over and over. If anything had happened to her before he’d come along … No, he couldn’t afford to think like that. She was safe now and she’d stay safe. “I missed you yesterday. You have no idea how much.”
Her teeth sunk deep into her lip.
“You can trust me with this, Roslyn. Turn off that clever mind of yours and let me get you there.”
She shook her head furiously.
“Yes.”
Her body bucked beneath him, still fighting. Soft curves pushed at him, struggling to get free. She was insane to think this wouldn’t work between them. There was no hiding the flush working up her neck, the gasp when he nuzzled the sweet spot below her ear. He barely touched her and she lit up for him. Skin to skin, there’d be no end to what they could do.
“You feel so good. Even like this, with clothes between us,” he murmured.
Elbows knocked against his arms as she fought him.
“I’m not letting go. Fight me all you want.” He dragged his mouth over her jaw. With a gasp she jerked her head back, pressing it into the pillow, unintentionally presenting him with the sexiest ear in creation and more of the smooth sensitive skin of her neck beneath. He couldn’t get enough of her. Having her stretched out beneath him was amazing. A heavy petting session with this woman outdid anything that he’d done before.
He made circular motions with his hips, studying her face to gauge her reaction. Fuck, she was pretty. Her jaw dropped and her knees clenched at his sides, holding onto him despite herself.
“There we go,” he reassured her.
She made a small noise, a lot like a sob, and her chin wrinkled.
Shit, no. Tears was cheating. “Ros …”
“Fine! You can turn me on.” Shiny eyes stared back at him and two bright spots of color sat high on her cheeks. “You win. Happy now?”
It didn’t exactly feel like a win.
He stopped dead and held still, breathing hard. His dick throbbed unhappily. “Is me making you feel good so terrible?”
She nodded tightly and stared at the front doors, forehead scrunched up. He wanted to smooth the soft skin with his fingers. Comfort her. Only one thing, however, would make her feel better.
Shit. Damn. Fuck.
Nick placed a kiss on her neck. He took a deep breath and let her go straight to his head. Who knew when she’d let him get this close again.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll stop. Look at me, Roslyn.”
She hesitated, but he waited. This was, after all, a waiting game. One he intended to win.
Eventually she turned back to him with a wary look. “What?”
This time, when he kissed her, he did it slowly with his eyes wide open. Carefully he angled his head and lowered his lips to hers. He stopped once they were touching. She stared back at him, not moving an inch, face frowning but not turning away. Not rejecting him. Yet. Who knew why? It didn’t matter. He kissed her again and again, pressing his lips gently to hers and watching her all the while. It felt mildly religious or something. It felt important. He didn’t rub his dick against her. Not even a little, despite his balls aching like bloody murder. He wasn’t ruining this for anything.
She exhaled and her lips opened slightly. A tiny sigh escaped. Ideally he’d have her sighing in ecstasy, but this seemed closer to relief.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
He kissed her again, just her bottom lip this time. Such a succulent bottom lip; he’d love to take a bite of her. The idea of biting had never occurred to him with other women, but Roslyn was special.
“I’m kissing you,” he said.
“Oh.” A frown flickered briefly across her face. At some stage she’d stopped scowling. Gradually her body relaxed beneath his. Hands no longer fought his hold. “I thought you were going to get off me.”
“Soon,” he agreed.
She gave him her curious face, her brows hunched in. “I’m not kissing you back.”
“Yeah.” He kissed her again. The side of her mouth, where top and bottom lip met. “I know.”
“Are you trying to prove another point?”
“No.” Lightly he brushed his lips over her cupid’s bow. “I’m just kissing you.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Mm.”
Restlessly her hips shifted against the bed, accidentally rubbing against him. His cock pulsed, jabbing at the top of his sweatpants, wanting out. Or, more accurately, wanting in. God help him. What a ridiculous situation. He choked back a laugh. Fact was, he could probably come just from kissing her. It would take longer. But it could be done.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I was laughing at myself.”
The woman tucked her chin in, drawing back from his wandering mouth. “Why?”
“You know, I’ve met two-year-olds who ask fewer questions than you.”
“You had kids?”
“No,” he said. “I didn’t have kids. Never been married, either.”
She digested this information with a slow nod. No smartass comment was made.
“We could get married,” he suggested with a smile.
“We are not getting married. Don’t be stupid.” Her scowl deepened. “Why were you laughing at yourself?”
“Well.” He sighed and leant in, brushed his nose against hers. “I was thinking I could come just from kissing you. Wanna give it a go?”
“No.” Her stomach rumbled loudly. “I’m hungry.”
“I heard.”
“Offering me your cock as a source of sustenance would be a bad idea.” The top corner of her upper lip rose to expose her teeth, like he needed the hint.
“Guess it would.” He grinned.
“Get off me, Nick.”
“In a minute.”
“Nick.”
“Come on. Can’t you kiss me just once?”
She swallowed and studied the ceiling above him. “No.”
“Why not? One little kiss wouldn’t kill you.”
“Don’t.”
“Roslyn. Just one.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Her face screwed up tight, eyes thunderous. “Really, we’re back to this? And you say I’m immature.”
She was right. It was a waste of time. Who was he kidding?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right.”
She rolled her eyes.
“No problem,” she said, voice bored. “I’m almost getting used to you sexually harassing me. Now, get off.”
He shook his head and grinned some more with relish. This would be fun. “No, not for that …”
“Yum,” the asshole enthused, shoving another pikelet into his mouth. This one was loaded down with sugar and lemon juice, just how she liked them. Of course, he knew this because he’d been reading her diary, the abysmal shithead.
They were actually pretty good. The man could cook. But it would take a hell of a lot more than showing style with batter and toppings to make her smile.
Roslyn sat on the big lounge opposite him, concentrating on the stunning view out the front. Hectares of pristine bushland and beautiful mountains rising in the distance. An awesome view, much more calming than watching the asshole eat. Her fingers tightened around her lukewarm mug of coffee in one hand, her reading glasses in the other. Their return along with the rest of her handbag did little to abate her pissy mood.
“Ros, have some more.”
“I’m fine. Thanks.” She sat with her legs curled up beneath her and a hand discreetly covering the spot where her neck met her torso. Just above her collarbone.
“It’s not that bad,” the asshole said around a mouthful of food. His eyes lingered on her hand.
“Eat with your mouth shut, please.”
The asshole grinned. With his mouth shut. That smile was pure pig—shelve him in 636.4—animal husbandry, swine. She’d tell him she hated him, but what was the point?
Nick downed the last of his coffee and licked his lips. “I’ve never bitten anyone before. It was kinda fun.”
“I hate you.”
“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that.” He leant forward and got busy topping up another pikelet with honey. “Actually, I don’t. What would be the point? Money’s useless these days.”
She said nothing. She had nothing to say.
“So, what do you want to do today?” he asked.
“With you? Nothing. How are they doing at the school?”
“Fine,” he said.
“Did you talk to them?”
“No. Just snuck in and grabbed your stuff,” he said.
“Did you see any of them, up at the school?”
“Ros, I was trying to avoid them.”
“But you must have noticed if they were around. How were they going?”
“Same as usual,” he said, his eyes all over the task to hand. No way could the surface area of the pikelet handle that amount of honey. What a disaster waiting to happen. “They were arguing about who ate the last tin of canned chicken or something. You need to eat more. Go on, have another.”
He continued to stare at his well-laden pikelet. Honey dripped onto the side of his hand and he licked it up. Tongue lapping. Like a dog. Her belly did something odd. Because he revolted her. Not because there could be anything weirdly appealing about what he was doing with the sugary-sweet condiment coating his skin. The sure, strong swipes of his tongue were repugnant.
She shifted on the lounge, trying to get comfortable. No position worked. Her sex was still swollen and sensitive from earlier. Everything felt uncomfortable and in need of relief. Apart from a quick pee break, he didn’t seem to be interested in letting her out of his sight. Bastard. Five minutes of privacy was all it would take and he knew it.