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“Now, you’re definitely having sex with me.”
“What?”
“You can’t be all ‘I didn’t touch the fans because I only want you’ and then deny me sex. I’m not allowing it.”
I chuckle. “Not allowing it?”
“You heard me.” She grabs the door handle. “Get your ass out of this car, march into the house, and have your wicked way with me.”
She doesn’t wait for my response before jumping out of the car and walking to the door. I chase after her. Of course, I do. There’s a limit to how much a sane man can resist this woman and no one’s ever accused me of being sane before.
I slam the front door behind me and lock it. Mercy kicks off her cowboy boots before starting to whip off her sweater.
I stop her. “Whoa. Slow down. I’m not fucking you against the wall.”
“Why not?” She pouts.
Because I want to show her how much I care for her. I open my mouth to say the words but nothing comes out. The words are stuck in my throat. I can’t say them. But I can show her.
I grasp her hand and tug her into my arms. “There’s no hurry, sassy girl. We have all night.”
“But I want you, guitar man.”
I press my hard length against her stomach. “And I want you.”
I mold my lips to hers and she immediately opens for me. I groan when her spicy taste hits me. This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I want. Not some nameless, faceless fan.
I thread my hands through her silky hair and tilt her head so I can dive deeper into her mouth. I want to explore every single inch. Taste every single inch.
She wraps her leg around my waist and rubs her core up and down my length. I slow the kiss before pulling away.
“Bedroom,” I growl.
I want to lay her down on a bed where I can touch every inch of her. I want to worship her body with my hands and my tongue. I need to show her how much she means to me. How I’m worth taking a chance on.
She points down the hallway and I throw her over my shoulder.
“Gibson,” she shouts as she pounds on my back. “I’m not a damsel in distress.”
“Never said you were.”
We reach the bedroom. I start to throw her on the bed but stop when I notice the mess of clothes on it.
She groans. “I’m usually not this messy, but I was still in my pajamas when I phoned 911. I had to dress quickly while keeping an eye on Mercury and checking for the arrival of the ambulance.”
I set her on her feet. “Stay there.”
She frowns. “You’re only supposed to order me around when we’re naked.”
I grin. “I’m glad you agree I’m in charge in the bedroom.”
“Damn. I didn’t mean—”
I kiss her before she can take back her words.
“I got this,” I murmur against her lips before stepping back.
I find the laundry basket and dump her clothes in it. I drop the full basket in the corner of the room before stalking toward Mercy. Her eyes flare as she watches me approach.
