Page 29 of Bad Run

When I open my eyes, I find Lance watching me—eyelids hooded, and his usually light irises dark with desire.

Time slows, and I watch him reach out to swipe his thumb across my top lip, then bring the frosting-covered pad to his mouth and suck. He hums, and I swear the deep, rumbly sound of his approval vibrates between my legs.

“Delicious,” Lance growls.

Oof, there go my panties. Liquid lust pools between my legs, and my clit pulses.

How on earth can a growl be so freaking hot?

As if he knows what I’m thinking, Lance smirks. He reaches into the bag, pulls out another donut, and takes a huge bite. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. Like a freaking creep, I watch him finish the damn thing.

If Lance is weirded out, he doesn’t show it. He just chews and, when he’s done, lifts his fingers to his mouth. Slowly, and with his molten blue eyes staring directly into my aqua ones, he licks the pink frosting off his thumb in the same way I imagine he would lick the length of my core with his tongue.

I rub my knees together, needing a touch of friction to ease the growing ache in my pussy.

What on earth is he doing to me?

I shake free of my lust-filled daze and reach for another donut. “Good, right?”

“I’m pretty sure I can think of something that would be tastier.” His voice is gritty, laden with innuendo.

Is he talking about me?

Lance places his hand on my knee, searing my skin through my tights.

Oh, he’s definitely talking about me.

My pussy flutters, and my clit throbs with a different hunger, and it sure as hell isn’t for the unfinished donut in my hand.

“Finish your donut, Gwen.” His words are a commanding caress. Gentle but firm.

Without question, I finish the donut as he watches.

Eating has never felt more erotic.

When I’m done, Lance tilts my chin up and presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss. A white-hot blaze of fire washes over me, burning my world up in flames.

Nervousness, curiosity, and a crazed dose of lust merge into an intense cocktail of sexual desire that boils in my veins, desperate to burst through my seams.

I’d never wanted a man more than I want Lance. He’s turned me into one enormous ball of hormones, and all I can think about is ripping off his shirt so I can lick his abs and then climb him like a tree. My hussy of a vagina agrees, spasming in delight at the thought of riding Lance’s baseball bat.

I will forever hate Jenna for putting that image in my head.

Concentrate, Gwen!

“Lance?”

“Yes.”

“I think it’s time to see your hotel room now.”

“Let’s go.” A growly rumble resonates in his chest as he slips off the bench and reaches for my hand. He carefully helps me to my feet, grabs the bag of donuts off the table, and leads me out of the small shop.

My overheated body barely registers the chilly night air as Lance steers me under a streetlamp, spins me around, and pushes my back up against the pole, bringing us chest to chest. His free hand slips inside his coat and grips my hip tightly as his fingers dig into my flesh and scorch my skin through the fabric of my skirt.

“Last chance to walk away, Gwen. Are you sure about this?” His thumb finds the sliver of skin below my sweater and runs it back and forth over my skin, lazily tracing lines.

“I’m sure. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you.” I sound breathless and needy, my body aching for him.