Opening Up Page 63
“He accused you of coming on to him.”
“Yes. Do you believe that?”
“What? Fuck no.”
“Okay, don’t get testy! I was just asking. Yes, that’s another thing dudes like him do when you call them out.”
If Asa ever saw that guy around again he’d finish what he started.
“Of course I’m testy. That guy better drink on the Eastside from now on.”
“No. I drink on the Eastside too, with my sister. He needs to stay home until he learns manners.”
The restaurant was close to his house, so it wasn’t too much longer until they pulled into the garage and he closed the door, shutting the outside world away.
She got out and he followed her quickly, pulling her against him, her back to his front, before they reached the door to the house.
She arched back into his body on a moan. He caressed her belly and up over her breasts. He’d wanted her, had wanted to fill himself of her, wanted to share in that sweetness she gave him. That scene back there had gotten him amped up. It had been a long time since he’d reacted that fiercely to protect someone. Not since he’d left the army.
His system zinged with adrenaline. The need to mark and possess. To inspect and pet. To preen for. He’d held back on the way home because he hadn’t wanted to scare her. He should have known she’d process the situation at the sushi place in her own way.
The light on the garage door opener clicked off, leaving them in the dark in his garage. All the smells he associated with things he loved best rose around him. His machines. Leather cleaner. And PJ. Sex and heat rose from her as he bent to breathe her in at the nape of her neck.
She let out a shuddering breath as he dragged his teeth against her skin. “Asa,” she whispered, the sound tortured as she grabbed his hand, sliding it down her belly. He growled in her ear and burrowed into her pants and straight into her panties.
She was hot and slick and ready to go. He groaned, brushing his cock against her ass. With his free hand he trailed fingertips up under her shirt, pulling the cups of her bra down so he could play with her piercings.
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder as she writhed.
“Wet and hot. Ready for me.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Mine.” Once the word left his mouth he knew it meant more than he’d even realized.
“Yes,” she agreed again, riding his hand as he slid one finger against her clit and played against the inferno-hot entrance to her body.
His breath sped too as she pressed back against his body. She reached up and back, encircling his neck the best she could at her angle.
“Ride my fingers.”
She made a sound, a plaintive growl. She wanted to come, his sweet Penelope Jean. Hated to wait. And it had seemed from pretty much the start that he’d been unable to resist her in the end. If she wanted it, he made sure it happened.
“It makes me crazy when you get so desperate and bratty for it that you tantrum just a little.” He spoke, his lips against her skin.
She let go of his neck, slapping her palms on the door in front of where she stood.
She arched, pressing her nipple into his grasp, rolling her hips as she ground herself against his hand and came in a hot rush against his palm and fingers.
He spun her slowly to face him. “Feeling a little better?”
“Mmm.” She smiled, eyes glassy.
He traced his fingertips, glossy with her, over her lips and groaned when she licked a trail behind his touch.
She grabbed his belt and in three movements his pants were open and his cock in her hands. He nearly blacked out when she went to her knees and took him into her mouth all the way, getting him nice and wet as she did.
He wanted to be gentle with her after that creep had manhandled her, but she had other plans. Inciting him on purpose, taking him as far back into her throat as she could.
There was something so scorching hot about it when she played with him like that. When she knew what he liked and made it so he could have it. She knew him in ways he had no idea it would be so special to be known.
The fist she had at the root of his cock slid up and down ever so slightly, but enough that he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting, fucking her mouth in earnest.
He grabbed two handfuls of her hair and yanked her forward onto his cock, over and over. She moaned and made needy sounds as she sucked him.
“So fucking pretty. Your mouth on me all pink and glossy. Pretty and so, so dirty.”
He brushed his fingertips over her cheek, aching at what he wanted. Turning away from it, not thinking she was ready.
Then she looked up at him as she swallowed him all the way down.
Challenge.
She needed it.
Wanted it.
As much as he did.
He pulled free of that luscious mouth, pumped his fist around himself twice more, and blew all over her mouth and down her neck and shirt.
A groan wrenched from his gut as he came, with each pulse as he watched his semen hit her skin, as her eyes widened but not with fear or disgust. No, PJ loved it. Loved that he’d done it, if for no other reason than that he loved it too.
He whipped his shirt off and helped her clean up the worst of it.
“Come on. There’s a shower with our names on it. Then we should watch movies like we planned. I’ll be up for another round shortly.” He waggled his brows. Maybe he’d pull out the new toys, especially the cane. Maybe he’d save it for another time. They had plenty of it.
She tossed her sticky shirt in the laundry basket, along with her bra. He just followed behind her, watching her move through his house and feeling very satisfied with his life indeed.