One Night of Trouble - Page 54/67

His pulse raced as he placed a tender kiss on her pretty pink folds, tasting her, exploring. He went down on her right there in the hallway, using his tongue and fingers to make her come apart, which took no time at all. And even as her body continued to tremble from the orgasm, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Screw dinner. He had more pressing matters on his mind right now.

He stripped off her dress, followed by every stitch of clothing covering him. Then he laid her down on the bed, and for the next hour, proceeded to kiss every inch of her body. Her tattoos. Her nipples. Her pussy again. The hurt look on Brett’s face had been branded into his memory, and he was desperate to erase it, desperate to show her that she was important. That she deserved to be adored and appreciated and worshipped, damn it.

“Oh God, what are you doing to me?” she choked out when his tongue yet again circled her clit.

“Everything,” he said simply.

Slipping two fingers into her tight channel, he resumed his single-minded objective to make her come again. Christ, she really was perfect. Soft and warm and beautiful, melting into the mattress as he gently coaxed her back to the edge.

His cock was rock hard and raring to go, and when he finally climbed up her body and slid inside her, he almost lost it on the first thrust.

“I love this,” Brett whispered. Her arms looped around his neck and her legs circled his waist, the heels of her feet digging into his buttocks.

She arched her hips, and a shock of pleasure raced down his spine and tingled in his balls. Slow. He had to go slow. Make it last. Make it good.

But Brett had clearly had enough of the painstaking pace he’d set. Her ass rose off the bed to meet his thrusts, her legs trapping him against her, giving him no choice but to thrust back. To wildly grind into her and make both of them moan with abandon.

Ecstasy twisted in his gut, spilling over before he could stop it. AJ came with a groan, burying his face in her neck as release barreled through him in pulsing waves and stole every coherent thought from his head.

Later, after they’d devoured fifty dollars worth of Chinese takeout, they nestled together in each other’s arms, Brett’s cheek pressed to his bare chest as he lazily twined a strand of her hair between his fingers.

Her warm breath fanned over his pecs. “Why don’t you ever want to hang out at your place?”

AJ was surprised it had taken her this long to voice the question, but he supposed there was no avoiding it now that they were dating.

Dating. Man, the concept still felt so foreign to him. He hadn’t expected to get attached to this woman. Hadn’t expected the gut-wrenching stab he’d felt last week when he’d imagined saying good-bye to her.

“I like it better here,” he answered, absently stroking her back.

“Why?”

“I don’t know… Your place feels…lived in, I guess. Welcoming. It has personality—your personality.”

“And yours doesn’t?”

“Not really.” He paused. “My mother decorated it, and honestly, it’s never felt like home to me.”

Brett sounded upset. “Didn’t you have any say? You didn’t pick out furniture or colors or artwork?”

“Nope. She did it all.”

“You could have said no,” she pointed out.

“I could’ve, but I didn’t. I guess I didn’t see the harm in letting her have her way. I’d already let her down about so many other things. If decorating my apartment made her happy, then I figured, why not.”

“But it’s your home.” Brett raised herself up on her elbow. “You should have done it your way.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t, and now I’ve gotta live with it. Or in it. Whatever.”

He shrugged, ready to change the subject, but he didn’t get the chance, because loud knocking suddenly blasted through the apartment, causing him and Brett to exchange startled looks.

“What the hell?” she muttered, with a quick glance at the bedside clock.

He followed her gaze, noting that it was nearly midnight. What the hell, indeed.

Brett sat up uneasily and pulled the sheet over her naked breasts. The pounding on the front door didn’t let up. It only got louder and more persistent as the door remained unanswered.

And then a muffled male voice reached their ears.

“Brett! Let me in!”

AJ’s chest stiffened at the same time Brett’s eyes went as wide as Frisbees. “Shit,” she blurted out. “Shit.”

AJ was out of bed in a heartbeat. “Who is it?” he demanded, his protective urges roaring to life as the voice continued to scream Brett’s name.

She met his gaze, anger and horror flashing on her face. “My ex-boyfriend.”

Chapter Fifteen

Brett flew off the bed in a frenzied search for something to wear. AJ’s T-shirt was the first item her panicked fingers collided with, and she slipped it on in a hurry, only realizing afterward that commandeering his shirt left him with nothing to wear. But she was too panicked to care. Troy’s voice continued to reverberate in the apartment, growing more and more desperate by the second.

“Brett! I know you’re in there! I saw your car outside! Open the damn door!”