Page 26 of When The Dust Settles

Talking? Was he kidding?

The half grin I got flushed me with heat, and that was nuts because all he was doing was stroking over the curve of my jaw and staring into my eyes.

“Glenn?”

The rumbling purr in his voice sent a shiver through me that was impossible to hide, along with the smell of the mint on his breath and the soap on his skin. The warmth of his hands wasn’t helping matters either.

He sighed and shook his head. “Waiting on you to figure shit out is exhausting.”

“What?”

“Lemme enlighten you,” he husked before he drew me to him, lowered his head, and kissed me.

I whimpered in the back of my throat and opened for him, parting my lips as his tongue found mine. Why or how, what was going on, none of that mattered at the moment. I had wanted to kiss Mac, to see what all that power and heat tasted like, and while I was confused, it didn’t matter. I would take advantage this once.

He stepped into me, slipping one hand around the back of my neck as the kiss ramped up, became urgent and grinding, devouring and mauling, like he wanted to eat me. Not that I cared. I was his for the taking, whatever he wanted, ready to yield.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, surrendering my weight, leaning as he dipped his other hand to the small of my back and pressed me against him, rubbing, pushing, parting my legs with his thigh as I tried to stay standing.

The kiss made me dizzy but I gave as good as I got, needing to sate my curiosity, to see what having Mac’s mouth on mine, his tongue exploring, teeth nibbling, and hands, now, on my ass, squeezing, felt like.

“Fuck,” he snarled, breaking the sublime, euphoric connection, the drugging kiss ending as he shoved me back.

I was lost, staring at him, watching him pant, seeing how swollen his lips were, how red, noting the clenched fists and the slight tremble to his broad shoulders.

“I should throttle you.”

“What?” I asked, taking a step toward him.

He lifted his hand to keep me away. “We’re gonna get something straight first.”

“I don’t—”

“You’re not a top.”

I had no idea what we were talking about.

“God, look at your face and your big, dark, beautiful blue…. Fuck, Glenn,” he groaned, then pounced, gathering me to him in a rush.

I took him in my arms when he grabbed me, tipped my head back, and laid a kiss on me that I felt from head to toe and all parts in between. His tongue tangled with mine as he fisted a hand in my hair and held tight as he used his other to get into my jeans. The belt surrendered easily, the snap next, the zipper making a quick sound before he wrapped one scarred, strong, beat-up hand around my cock and pulled.

I nearly made a wet mess right there as I bucked into his grip, but I held on, squirming, hands in his hair as he stroked me firmly but gently. I needed to be closer to him and so tugged on his T-shirt, wanting it off.

“Jesus, Glenn,” he rasped, pulling free, only to grab my bicep and haul me over to his bunk. He shoved me down and I sat hard, looking up at him and waiting.

He squatted in front of me and gingerly picked up one foot, pulled off my boot, and then repeated the motion with the other. Once that was done, he stood back up, grabbed the bottom of each leg of my jeans, and shucked them down and off fast.

“You see this,” he said, gesturing at me. “You… waiting… looking up at me with those pretty eyes of yours, ready to take direction…. This should clue you in.”

I was lost, but I had to touch him. That was the most important thing. “Please get naked. I wanna see all of you.”

I would have thought he was a stripper, the way he took off his T-shirt, reaching down his sides, sliding it up and slowly off, letting me see the hard, flat planes of his stomach, the wide, carved pectorals with dark-brown nipples, the sexy angles of his collarbone and his chiseled arms and massive shoulders. He was built powerful and strong, and I wanted him all over me.

His cock was erect under his sleep shorts, tenting the soft cotton, making a wet spot, and before he could do as I asked and divest himself of every stitch of clothing, I leaned forward and pulled at the drawstring. They dropped to his hips, holding there for a second before falling to his cock, caught on his long, thick length like they’d been hung up on the end of a club.

“Glenn,” he whispered as I lifted them off and let them drop to puddle around his ankles.

“Just let me,” I groaned, my breath catching as I wet my lips before parting them, opening for the wide mushroom head of his gorgeous cock.