Page 29 of Jonesing for a Spy

His taunting words, the scent of him, his nearness, the heat… the challenge.

“Yes,” I acquiesce on a quiet moan. “But I’ll come when and how I want.”

He pulls back, his eyes dancing with mirth. “We’ll see.”

I stand, but Strider doesn’t back up, doesn’t give an inch. My breasts rub his chest as I look up into his handsome face. “As if you get to choose.” And with all the brain cells I can muster, I slip to the side and holding the man’s molten gaze, I lift the tee over my head, lifting my chin in a silent taunt.

In no time, Strider is on me, wrapping me in his arms, mouth taking mine, our tongues dueling for dominance. His fingers skim my waist, thumb the undersides of my breasts, and dance along the top of my jeans. There’s no hesitation as he rips open the button, speaking against my lips. “Baby, you’re playing with fire.” Hands round my waist as he continues, “But I like the burn. Up.”

I don’t need any more encouragement and hop as he lifts, locking my ankles above his ass and grinding against the heat in his jeans.

Rounding the corner, he slides me down his chest until my ass is perched on the island. The cold marble oozes through my jeans. A quick tug on my hair and he exposes my neck, his mouth finding the spot where my pulse pounds a tattoo in my veins.

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly, as if to himself, and grinds his cock to my core. He sucks hard on my pulse point, flicking his tongue in time with each beat.

With no warning, he lays me back against the cold marble, and I hiss as my back bows to avoid the chill. He lifts his face from where he’s trailing kisses between my breasts, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You arching up under my tongue was exactly what I wanted, but I expected to make it to your clit before that happened. I took you for a woman with a little restraint.”

The fucker winks before returning to my chest. My bra cups are yanked down, lifting my breasts to the ceiling. Before I can care, his mouth is on one and then the other, the cool air juxtaposed against his warm mouth. I moan and writhe and reach for my clit, only to have my hand slapped away.

“Nope. Your orgasms are mine tonight. In fact…” He lifts off my body and leaves.

He fucking leaves.

“Nope,” I shout. “Get back here. You promised oral and orgasms, and I’m demanding you make good on it.”

His chuckle reaches me before I see him… well, him and my vibrator. He doesn’t return, so I crane my neck to follow his movement. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve left well enough alone.

A glass shoveling ice from the ice maker tells me I should’ve kept to my original plan and hid out at Davie’s until this reservation had run its course. I knew. I knew. And I came back anyway. And here I lie… on my kitchen island with my tits straining for the ceiling and my doom walking toward me, a smile plastered firmly on his face.

Strider

The vibrator in the glass of ice is solely there for the threat of it. Mirren’s eyes blow wide, her freckles taunting me from her pert nose. Her body splayed before me like a feast when I’m looking at my last meal.

“Baby, you are a work of art.” I don’t mean to sound so serious. “I must be the luckiest bastard on the planet.”

“You won’t be if you don’t get busy,” she mutters.

Everything about her is my kryptonite. She’s sexy as fuck and cute as a button. She’s got a gorgeous body and a smart mouth. She’s everything I could ever want, wrapped up in a package that brings me to my knees.

“You may control a lot of shit in your life, but I control this.” I watch as my index finger trails down her body from the hollow of her throat, past her tits, over her belly button, until I cup her through her jeans. “At least for tonight.” I lift my gaze to hers and drop my voice, “Let go.”

Her eyes bounce over my face as if she’s deciphering a code I don’t know is written there, but she nods as if it’s a vow. “For tonight.”

It’s not a challenge.

It’s not acceptance.

It’s submission.

And I have no idea how I’ll ever live without it.

“Close your eyes.”

She hesitates. Emotions war across her face before she gauges me and slowly does as I ask.

“Can you feel me touching you?” I squeeze where I cup her through her jeans.