Booty Call (Forbidden Bodyguards Book 2) (12 page)

I cry out and he pauses. He doesn’t pull back, and he gets a gold star in de-virgining for that. He just looks at me and tells me how hot I am.

That helps.

I roll my hips, then plant my feet on the bed, but that tenses everything up.

“Shhh,” he says, shifting so more of his weight is on top of me. Oh, I like that.

He kisses me, his tongue coaxing mine out to play, and then, ever so slowly, he pushes inside me, pausing every time I tense to whisper something else. Bit by bit I open to him, and he presses inside until he’s filling me up.

I’m gasping for air by the time he’s buried to the root inside me, because I’ve never in my entire life felt anything like this.

I’m so full it hurts, but the hurt is so good, and I want him to do something, but I’m not sure what. Fuck me, probably.

I breathe his name, and he presses his hips into me. How is that possible, to get any deeper? But it is, and he does, and then he starts to pull out.

Before I can say something—
no no no
, maybe, or
get back here, asshole
, or
don’t move, please
—he thrusts all the way into me, making me scream. And then I know exactly what I want to say.

“Again. Oh my God, do that again.”

He grins, and does exactly that, dragging his cock out of me and driving it back in, tripping a bunch of really awesome nerve endings in both directions. I cling to him as he rocks into me, and when I start rolling my hips enthusiastically, he shifts positions, pushing up onto his knees.

He hauls me up with him, so my hips are off the bed and in his lap. I can’t move as he holds my thighs steady, and he feeds his cock back into me. This angle is even better, because I’m all relaxed and open to him, and deep inside, the thick, broad head of his erection is rubbing something that feels so, so good.

I’m going to explode.

I mean, I’m going to come, but in a new and scary way, and I think it’s a legit concern that I might actually burst into a million pieces.

People don’t actually die from sex, right? Not unless there are gerbils involved?

I’m probably safe. I hope I don’t actually explode. As soon as all those pieces of me slam back together, I’m going to want to do this again.

My hands roam onto my body. I want to touch him, too, but I can only reach his knee. But there’s another part of him I can touch. The part that’s ruthlessly spearing into me, over and over again. I slide my fingers over my mound. Holy shit, I’m wet. Well, that would be embarrassing if he wasn’t so hard. And huge.

All of that is inside me, I think as my fingers dance over his surging flesh. My touch centers all of my attention right there, where we’re joined. It feels good, but underneath the “holy shit full of feelings” reaction, there’s a burn, too. I’m going to be sore later.

That’s later’s problem.

“Touch yourself,” Scott rasps, and I jerk my gaze to his face. He’s watching, too.

“I’m touching you.”

“And I’m going to fill you up with come in a minute, so either touch that pretty little clit and make yourself come, or get that gorgeous hand out of the way so I can do it.”

Well. I grin and touch myself. “Like that?”

He groans. “Fuck yeah.”

“You like watching?”

He groans. Okay, he’s not one for talking right in the middle of sex.

I think I might be, though. We’ll have to test that out. “I got myself off in the shower, thinking about watching you jerk yourself off.”

Another groan, and his steady pace falters.

“I wanted to lick it up after—” I shriek as he shoves me…up the bed, sort of. I don’t know, exactly. One minute I was touching myself and he was above me, then he was on top of me and my hand is trapped between our bodies. His mouth is next to mine, sharing harsh, desperate breaths as he slams into me, harder and faster until I seize up around him.

With a few harsh jerks, he comes with me.

As my heart rate returns to normal, I realize I’ve bit him on the shoulder.

His hands are fused to my ass. He grabbed me so hard I might have bruises in the morning.

I can feel his heart thudding against mine.

Wow.

“So…” I say breathlessly. “Sex is kind of fun.”

—eighteen—
 

Scott

Ali is insatiable. Even though it’s her last month of classes and she’s got final papers and exams to study for, she’s texting me almost every night.

I’m not complaining. The sex is fantastic.

But that’s all we’re doing. At first her school work and my occasional trip back and forth to New York are good covers, but eventually I realize that…sex is really, genuinely all she wants.

I’m a fucking pussy, because I’m a little hurt by that. Which isn’t fair to women like Ali, who has managed to have a healthy sexual relationship right out of the gate, no strings attached. She could teach me a thing or two if I wasn’t such a stubborn idiot.

Instead, I decide to push the question and fuck up what is a perfect booty call relationship.

It’s been two days since I’ve been over there, so I’m guessing tonight she’s going to want a late night visit. I send a pre-emptive shot across the bow.

S: Studying late tonight? Want a dinner break?

A: I’ll get a sandwich at the cafeteria. But I’ll let you know when I’m done…

I let it go, and pick her up at the library at half-past ten, right on schedule. We go back to her place and she offers me ice cream, which leads to lick it off each other’s torsos and slow, amazing sex on a chair in the middle of her kitchen. She rides me and I lick the last bit of sweet cream off her tits.

It’s not until we’ve cleaned up and she’s packing me out the door that I remember that I’m irrationally grumpy about this.

I lean against the door frame and pull her close for a lingering goodbye kiss. And then I push her again. “Let’s go out for dinner tomorrow night. Italian. I know this place in Arlington…”

She shifts uncomfortably. “We don’t need to go out for dinner.”

“But I want to. With you.”

“I’ve got a lot of studying to do.”

“After your exams, then. No rush.”

“I’ll be diving right into my senior project.”

“Alison.”

She rolls her eye and mimics my serious voice. “Scott.”

“Fine.” I stand up straighter and cross my arms.

She raises her eyebrows. When I don’t say anything else immediately, she sighs and takes off her shirt.

“You have gotten exceptionally comfortable with this sex thing,” I say. “Not complaining.”

She runs her fingers along the edge of her bra. This one is red with a few extra straps that make me think of tying her down. And I’m complaining about her being a dirty girl?

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, her chin jutting in a way that says,
right?

“It was a big deal to me,” I admit.

“That's because you're a dirty old man. It's an artificial construct, really.”

“Maybe.” I lick my lips. I’m getting hard. “It gets you off, too.”

“Only because it was with you, and you are hot. It's the billionaire and the virgin role-play fun.” Direct hit, and she knows it. She drops her hands to her yoga pants and tucks her thumbs in, playing up the ingénue. I don’t need to hide that I’m turned on, so I lower my hand and squeeze my cock. She turns pink.

So much for me leaving in a huff. I roll my lower lip between my teeth and wait to see where she takes it.

“Are you still mad at me…sir?”
 

“No, I’m not not mad.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

I want to take her over my lap and spank her something fierce, but the only one who’s done something wrong tonight is me. “Come here, little one.” She comes closer and I take her hand and press it against my erection. “Does that feel like I’m mad?”

“No, sir.”

“Then drop to your knees and be thankful I’m so kind.”

Her eyes light up. Jesus.
 

In a flash, she’s got my cock out and her lips are wrapped around the head. “Like this?” she asks, pulling off with a pop.

I smirk. “You can take me deeper than that.”

“I’ll try,” she says, sliding a nervous tremble into her voice. My dick throbs in response and she stifles a grin.

“Brat. Suck me off, or I’ll come on your face.”

She scowls and licks me like a lollipop.

And so it goes. I might be annoyed, but I’m not so principled that I won’t take whatever she’s offering. Especially when what she’s offering is the best thing I’ve ever had.

—nineteen—
 

Alison

I know what I’m doing when I text Scott at four in the morning a few days later.

He knows what I’m doing, too.

That’s why he shows up twenty-three minutes later, freshly showered with a condom in his pocket and a barely dissolved breath mint on his tongue.

I smirk as he looms over me. “You are such a dirty old man.”

“We need to stop doing this.”

He doesn’t mean it, but I let him have this conversation. He’s slowly wearing me down. I cross my arms and smile at him. “Why?”

“Because you’re twenty and I’m not. Because I want to take you on a fucking date and you won’t. Because we wind up yelling at each other half the time.”

“But the rest of the time you’re inside me and it feels so good, right?”

His eyes darken and I don’t need to look down to know he’s hard for me.

I love that.

I’m taunting him, working him into a lather in the hopes that he’ll fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.

“Yeah it feels good, you crazy woman. Why can’t you sleep?”

“I just finished a practice exam—aced it—and was feeling restless, I guess. Full of
ohmygodimaybeknowit
energy.”

“Full of what?”

“Oh my God I maybe know it.”

He shakes his head and tugs me closer. “I’m sure you know it backwards and inside out. Come on, let’s get naked. A few orgasms are exactly the sleep prescription you need.”

“You were totally just thinking something about kids these days, weren’t you?”

“I’ll never tell.”

Instead of leading him into my room, I take off my clothes and go and start the shower.

He follows, watching me silently. We’ve done it on my couch and on a chair in my kitchen, but we haven’t had shower sex yet.

Since I owe him an apology, this feels like a good symbol. Washing away the bad juju or something. I start the shower and step into my small tub, holding the curtain out of the way. “Come here.”

He follows, naked now as well. An amused smile curls up his lips. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“And I’ve been sweating bullets over international law for like eighteen hours. I don’t smell good.”

“You always smell fantastic,” he mutters, but he joins me, crowding me into the water. I love how big he is, and how he uses that size to make me feel dominated in all the right ways. I turn to offer him some body wash, but the bottle tumbles out of my hand as he lifts me up. From nowhere he makes a condom appear, and I rip it open.

“Put it on me.” The man thinks I’m way more gymnastic than I really am, but I reach between us and sheath him.
 

Then he’s inside me in one, breath-stealing surge.
 

“Don’t care if you’ve been working all day and night,” he mutters, grinding against my clit as I pulse around him, adjusting to his size. “Want you anyway. Always.”

I tighten my arms around his neck. So much for me making this about him. I close my eyes as he kisses my neck. Tighten my legs around his waist as he fucks up and into me. Basically hold on as he ravages me, because this is hard and fast and rough.

“You’ve got me. Always,” I promise. I’m a shitty girlfriend, because I’m focused on a dozen life goals that have nothing to do with a man, but Scott likes that about me. “I’m yours, you know that?”

“At four in the morning,” he growls.

“And when I’m buried in a pile of books, or taking an exam…”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Am I?”

I cry it out this time. “Yes!”

“Fuck.” He growls as he splits me in two, his hands tight on my thighs and his cock a piston between my legs. I don’t even need to touch myself, because he’s hitting all the right spots: his cock is stretching my cunt, bumping my cervix and a bunch of other good spots inside; the root of him rolls my clit with each buried thrust; but most effective of all are his words, squeezing my heart in my chest.

Hell, I didn’t even know that thing worked.

“Always yours,” I whisper, my voice having fled the building. My words crack a little as I try to ride him, desperate to come with him.

His hands slide, big and sure, to my ass, squeezing my cheeks and pulling them apart. Pulling
me
apart as he holds me steady and fills me, over and over again, until I’m sobbing his name and climbing the peak he always manages to get me up and over.

“Ali,” he growls. “My Ali. Mine. Fucking mine, always.”

“Yes,” I say, but it’s not really a word, it’s a cry, and it’s lost in the water as I tip my head back and explode for him. He buries himself in me, his cock twitching as it spills his seed inside that condom.

I wish he was bare inside me.

We should talk about that. I’m ready. I trust him.

But baby steps. I laugh shakily as he sets me down and gets rid of the condom.

“Is that a sleep deprivation laugh?” he asks roughly as he wraps his arms around me from behind.

I shake my head. I don’t need any secrets from him. “I was just thinking maybe we should talk about going without condoms.”

He doesn’t move, but his heart is pounding. I can hear it. “Yeah?”

“I’m…I get the shot. And if you…”

“I’ll get tested. It’s been a while, but another test is a good thing.”

I nod. “And I was laughing because I was thinking it’s a weird order.”

“What is?”

I turn in his arms. “That I don’t have any problem suggesting we go bare, but I’ve been struggling with agreeing to…”

He smirks at me. “To…?”

“Tomorrow night is my last exam.” I press up on my toes and kiss his jaw, then lick down his strong, corded neck. “If you want to go out and celebrate with me…”