Page 128 of Not Mine to Rescue

He laughed. “I thought you liked dirty talk.”

“Dirty, not... locker room filth.”

There was too much mischief on his face.

“Don’t...” I warned.

He stood up and held out a hand. “Stand up, dirty girl.”

“Wombat...”

“I said stand up.”

Why in the hell did that biker-y growl make me wet? “This is under protest.” I stood.

“Brat, I’m going to spank you for that.”

Please? “Are you crazy?”

“Always. Haven’t you learned anything since you met me?”

Oh, I’d learned a lot. “Let me remind you I’m tired. I puke no less than five times a day, I barely keep anything down, and you’re pissing me off.”

He paused, studying me. “I am not.” He stepped back, curling his finger to beckon me to follow. I did just that, step for step as he slipped up the stairs one at a time, keeping eye contact as he moved.

My eyes dropped to the bulge in his pants. “You’re turned on.”

“Around you? Always. Now drop the pretense and let me in.”

The last three words were a command using his biker-y voice and everything. My breasts tingled as his husky whispers spun around me, weaving a promise of sensuality I couldn’t resist. “And if I do?”

“Three.”

“I’m tired,” I reminded him.

“Still a brat.” Wombat shook his head. Then he took my hand and tugged. I fell into him, and he picked me up, carrying me the distance of the hallway and into my bedroom. I landed on the bed face-first and his hand came down on my ass. I yelped and rolled over.

“Brat.” He bit off the end of the word and dared me to respond.

The sting warmed into something that made me squirm. Forget wet. I was soaked. I needed him. “Take off your clothes.”

His eyes flashed. “You first.”

That was an easy command to follow. Of course, my pants leg tangled on the monitoring bracelet and the mortification made me curl my leg under myself to hide it.

Wombat’s belt fell to the floor with a jangle, then his warmth wrapped around me. He stroked my back, digging in at the shoulders to ease the caress into a massage that untwisted my tense muscles. “Too fast?”

I shook my head. “I’m ashamed of myself.”

“Why?”

I glanced over my shoulder. A glimmer of dark humor seized me, begging to crawl free. I indulged it for once, hoping it wasn’t the wrong time. “I never believed this, but I always heard that too much knowledge was dangerous.”

He stared at me for a moment, waiting for more. Then he burst into laughter. As he settled down, he wrapped around me, pulling me to the pillows. I lay in his embrace marveling at how good it felt to laugh. And moreover, how good it felt to be held.

Another chuckle shook his chest. “That’s a good one. I can’t wait until I can take you to the club again.”

That was sobering, and also sweet. “You know the firm all thought the Destroyers were criminals, I guess now I’ll fit right in.” That was awful of me, and I apologized almost as soon as I said it.