She was still clutching his jacket and sucked on his lip before answering. “Yeah, and my belly button.”
Deacon slid his arms under her ass, lifted her off the floor, strode to the living room, and deposited her on the couch. If he took her to his room, they’d never leave the apartment. He could cancel his business dinner, but he didn’t think that was the best idea. As much as he wanted her, and he did, painfully so, he knew rushing things wouldn’t help his cause where Alex was concerned.
One taste before they left would have to do.
“What are you doing?” she asked, voice breathless, needy.
His answer was to drop to his knees in front of her. “One taste, Alex. Just one.” She sucked in a breath when he slipped a thin strap off her shoulder and pulled down her dress to reveal one perfect pink nipple. A metallic purple bar pierced the delicate flesh, which puckered further under his heated gaze.
“Do you have any idea how hot that is?”
She lifted her chin and smirked. “I’ve been told once or twice.”
Was she trying to piss him off? Hurt him? More than likely. The idea of another man seeing her like this, touching her, drove him insane. “Well, for the next three months you’re mine, Alex. Nobody else sees you like this. Do you understand?”
He brushed his thumb over the peak again. This time without her dress covering her, and she gasped. “It’s not like you’ve given me any other choice.”
“Exactly, so don’t fight it. Enjoy what I can do for you, what we can do for each other.” He bent down and sucked the purple bar into his mouth. The metal was warm from her body heat, and he groaned. He swirled his tongue, sucking hard, then tugged on her tender flesh while he continued to stroke the other one through her dress.
He glanced up. “Do you like that? Do you like it when I tug the barbell in that perfect little nipple?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
Her fingers were in his hair, and she fisted it almost painfully as she held him to her. She was still fighting it, fighting the way he made her feel. She squirmed, and he knew she was already wet for him. He shoved her dress higher so he could get between her legs.
Spreading her thighs, he pulled her to the edge of the couch so he had better access and rubbed his erection against her hot center. “Shit, Alex. You can feel it, can’t you, feel it between your thighs, deep inside, when I suck you into my mouth?” She wrapped her legs around his waist and kept him where she wanted him.
“Yes.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”
She nodded, whimpering.
Shit. He sucked harder and ground against her. He could feel her heated flesh through his trousers but resisted the urge to free his dick, shove her panties aside, and fuck her hard right then and there. He didn’t want to rush this. He wanted to take his time, to savor her.
He palmed her ass and thrust against her, while he squeezed the other breast and gave the bar in his mouth another sharp tug.
She cried out, coming apart in his arms. He wanted to hear his name on her lips, but it was only a matter of time, he’d make sure of it. She yanked his hair again, holding him against her until her cries died and her body went soft and pliant.
He pulled back and looked down at her. So beautiful. “Next time I plan on watching you when you come.” It took serious self-control, but he lifted her straps back up, pulled her dress down over her thighs, and sat back on his heels. “We need to get going.”
Cheeks flushed and bottom lip swollen from biting on it, she looked adorable and sexy and confused as hell. She glanced down at the front of his pants and arched a brow. “You can’t go out in public like that.”
He chuckled, then kissed her lush mouth one more time because he couldn’t stop himself. “I have the drive to get myself under control. Maybe you can take care of it when we get back?”
Yeah, she liked that idea. It was written all over her face, even if she tried to hide it.
She shrugged. “Up to you if you want to go out with a boner like some creepy old perv.”
“I’m only three years older than you.”
Her red lips lifted in a cheeky grin, and his gut twisted. “Yeah? Well, you look much older.”
He laughed and pulled her off the couch. “Come on, you little deviant. Let’s go get this dinner over with. I’m not close to being finished with you.”
Her smile slipped, and she crossed her arms.
He tugged her closer. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” She pushed past him and strode to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”
He grabbed her hand before she walked out the door without him. He wouldn’t let her put distance between them, not ever again. Tonight was only the beginning.
He just had to convince her to take a chance and love again.
Chapter Four
Oh my God, I’m a complete and utter slut. So much for making him work for it. She would have dropped her panties right there in his living room after the orgasm he’d given her. Her face heated. How would she survive this?
She was supposed to resist, be strong—instead she’d wrapped her legs around his hips and rubbed up against him like a dog in heat until she got off.
Martin was waiting for them by the Mercedes when they came down from the apartment. He stepped forward as they approached and opened the door for her, which made her feel uncomfortable. Since when did a mechanic’s son, who’d spent half his life in coveralls with grease on his hands, need someone to open his damn door?
She looked at Deacon, who still had hold of her hand even though she’d tried to wrench her fingers free from his grasp several times. “Why the hell do you need a chauffeur?” She heard Martin chuckle under his breath as she climbed in. “Shit, sorry, Martin.”
Martin winked and went around to take the driver’s seat.
Deacon slipped an arm around her waist and slid her closer to him in the backseat. “Martin’s driving us tonight so I can focus all my attention on you.” His hand took hers and then rested them on his solid, warm thigh. The muscle beneath jumped and things down below started to fire up all over again. She tried to slide her hand out from under his.
“Give it up, Alex. I’m not letting you go.”
Great. She needed some distance, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. And sitting here, plastered together, while his fingers lightly stroked her waist was starting to get her all hot and bothered. “So who are these old farts we’re meeting tonight?” It was the unsexiest thing she could think of in that moment.
He smiled, all masculine gorgeousness. And dammit, that set off some more happy tingles down south. The guy had a killer smile, always had, and he knew how to use it. “What makes you think Jarrod’s an old fart?”
“Aren’t all you business types a pack of premature-aging stuffed suits?” She congratulated herself when his eyes narrowed at her.
He leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear. Did he know how much she loved when he kissed her there, how much it affected her? “You’ll pay for that when we get back to my place. I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.”
She swallowed hard and turned to look out the window. All the witty comebacks she’d had swirling in her head went poof, vanished into thin air with those huskily spoken words. She squeezed her thighs together, the tingles upping their assault, and squirmed in her seat.
Deacon’s soft laugh drifted over her, like he could read her mind, like he knew exactly how much she wanted him despite her attempts to convince him otherwise. Arrogant prick. She swiveled around and socked him in the arm.
“Hey.” He held up both hands. “What was that for?” He rubbed at his shoulder, and his bottom lip popped out. And all she could think was that she wanted to lean in and suck on it, lick it. Dammit. If mind bleach was a thing, she’d totally wash him from her memories. Erase the day she’d ever laid eyes on Deacon West.