22
" Mate. He’d told Hayden he would stick to his routine. That meant watching the game at her apartment on Sunday and maintaining their friendship. His logical mind fought against his growing urges. Last night, he couldn’t have a simple conversation without touching her. And she didn’t make things any easier. He could smell the desire pouring out of her. It took every ounce of his self-control to hold himself back. At times, it was painful. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve got the situation under control.”
Cam laughed. “Like you did yesterday? Dude, we both know it’s only going to get worse. You’re like a ticking sex bomb.”
Deep down, Kaden knew he was right. Annabelle would become an irresistible, unquenchable thirst. Ordinarily, she would feel the same pull, but there was no way to know how a human would react. “There’s no such thing as a sex bomb.”
Cam spread himself flat across the sofa with his arms crossed behind his head. “Yeah, well, there definitely should be.”
“Be serious.”
He sat up. “I’m trying to tell you, it’s foolish to fight the bond between you. You’d be better off going with it and letting the panties drop where they may.”
And what would happen if he did bond with her? There was no chance it would ever work out between them. He had to hide who he was from the world. A life with him meant Annabelle would have to lie to her friends and family about their relationship. He would never be able to marry her or give her the children she wanted. They’d talked about her dreams for a white picket fence and a family. Even if she were willing to give up those things, wouldn’t he be putting her life in danger? A dull ache formed in the pit of his chest. “You know that’s not possible.”
If he could somehow push away these human emotions of his, maybe he stood a chance of keeping her in his life. Maybe someday he could actually be happy for her if she found a suitable mate. He dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands at the thought of her with a human. “I have to go. She’s waiting for me.”
“Don’t forget the condoms,” Cam shouted out. “Matter of fact, you might want to double up. With all your pent-up frustration, there’s bound to be an explosion.”
“Hilarious,” he replied, shutting the door behind him as he made his way toward his truck. Once inside, he slid his seat belt on and leaned back against the head cushion with his eyes closed. Filled with self-doubt, he worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle it. But he had to.
For the sake of everyone he loved, he had to find a way. "
― Stacey O'Neale , Under His Skin (Alien Encounters, #1)
26
" Look, I wanted to mention something to you," I said. Play it off as casual. Play it off as no big deal. Be cool.Her lips curled up in an amused smile. " Okay?" " You know what a horrible prankster Will can be." She nodded and I continued: " I may have just done something to get back at him and I swear," I said, resting a hand on her shoulder, " I swear, Hanna, you'll think it's hilarious... eventually." " Eventually?" " Absolutely. Eventually." She considered me through narrowed eyes. " This is just a prank, right? No shaved heads or scars?" I pulled back to study her. " That was a very specific question. Scars?" I shook my head, clearing it. " And no, no, no, no. Just a silly little prank." I gave Hanna my best smile, the one Chloe said made panties drop. But apparently it only made Hanna more suspicious.Her eyes narrowed further. " What would I need to do?" " Nothing," I said. " You'll probably see some weird stuff but just... go along with it." " So, basically be oblivious." " Exactly," I said." And this will be funny?" " Hilarious." She thought about it for a full ten seconds before reaching out to shake my hand. " You're on. "
33
" Oh my god.”
He didn’t turn or say anything even though the frustration in Honor’s voice made it difficult.
“My pants are stuck. I don’t think I can get them off without some help. Jesus, wet jeans are heavy and uncooperative.”
A grin stretched across his face. “You want my help?”
She let out a deep breath. “Yes, but you have to close your eyes.”
“You going commando tonight?” he teased.
“No, but…”
He shut his eyes and turned. She took his outstretched hand and tugged him down to the ground. Once there, she helped him latch on to the bunched up denim at her thighs, he guessed. Do not peek, Bishop. Do not peek.
“But?”
“My panties are white and now see-through and there’s not a lot to them.”
“Gotcha.” There wasn’t a red-blooded man alive who wouldn’t peek. “Let’s get these off you.” He pulled, she pushed and wiggled, and he got the pants to her feet in no time.
“Thank you,” she said, a little out of breath.
“No problem.”
“Bryce!”
“What?” Christ, she had sexy legs, and the barely-there material at their juncture left little to the imagination, so his thoughts leaped to about a dozen dirty scenarios.
“Your eyes are open! "
― Robin Bielman , Blame it on the Kiss (Kisses in the Sand, #2)
34
" She shivered under his touch, desire dampening her panties and making her clench her thighs together in an attempt to find some relief. His devilish hands relaxed their grip on her hips and slid around to cup her ass, pulling her close. Thick, hard evidence of his desire pressed against her belly. God, she wanted this man, and not just to silent the stressful thoughts always swirling in her head. She wanted him, not just the divine moment of oblivion that blocked out everything else.The realization scared her and brought some unwanted reality into the room. " We shouldn't be doing this." " Why?" He made quick work of the buttons on her petal-pink cashmere sweater and parted her cardigan. Sean gave a soft growl as he stared at her silver satin pushup bra that presented her boobs like an all-you-can-lick buffet. " Because I'm your employee?" He licked his lips and slid his thumb across the satin covering her hard nipple." Yes," she said, sighing. An answer to his question or a response to even the lightest of touches? Both." Easy fix." He snapped the front closure of her bra and her tits tumbled out. " I quit." Bending forward, he lifted one heavy globe and took the hard nub into his hot mouth. Fire sizzled through her veins and it felt so good she couldn't wait to burn." You can't quit." She reached down for the top button of his jeans and flicked it open. " We need you. I need you." He released her nipple and she groaned in frustration. Then he found the hem of her skirt and inched it higher and the soft groan that floated out of her mouth was for a whole other reason." Hire me back in about an hour or, better yet, a few days." The cool air caressed her upper thighs as he raised her skirt, but it wasn't enough to relieve the molten heat engulfing her. " I like how you think. "
39
" The doubts, strong as they were, were rousing more than hesitation. Her eyes drifted closed, fingertips sliding over the silk and lace panties she wore.
Larry could never know how many times they’d been pulled aside in a rush of unbridled lust, how the side had been carefully stitched after they’d been ripped from her in a bar bathroom a few years ago by a man whose name she didn’t even know. She found her fingers at the seam, her breath shallow and shaking as she remembered the way his rough, callused fingers felt inside her, the ache of his teeth at her shoulder, the sound of his growling moans as he gripped her hair and plunged deep into her throat. She could still smell the whiskey on his breath, the stifling cloud of smoke that permeated every part of the hole-in-the-wall bar "
― Alaria Thorne , Ravaging The Bride
40
" After a torrent of rapid knocking, Lucy swept past her in the hallway, threw her purse on the table, and landed her ass on the couch before turning expectantly toward Riley and patting the couch next to her. Her dark eyes examined every nuance of Riley’s appearance.
“Okay, dish,” she demanded. “Every last detail.”
Riley rolled her eyes and shook her head as she scooted across the floor in her sock feet. She didn’t feel great, but at least she wasn’t in full torture mode. She thought Lucy might have waited until afternoon instead of showing up at ten-thirty a.m. but what the hell. Her old sweatshirt hugged against her stomach as she pulled her arms together.
“Well,” she feigned ignorance, “what do you want to talk about?”
Lucy slammed her hand on the couch. “Oh, don’t you even. Right now.” She threw herself back against the couch, her face fixed in a not-to-be-toyed-with expression. Riley noted with mild interest how her breasts jiggled inside her white t-shirt. Maybe she was turning into some kind of sex fiend.
“Okay, yes, he sets me on fire. I can’t help it. Blame my gender lineage.”
“I could see he set you fire. Your eyes could hardly look at anything else.” She picked at a tear in her faded jeans then flared back at Riley with an expression of awe. “Of course, my eyes had a few spasms of their own in his direction. Shit, the man is a god. I can’t remember seeing a body that well put together. At least,” she arched her back, “not a male body.”
Riley threw back her head and laughed. Lucy was good tonic, at the very least. “Oh my god, can you stand it?!”
“No—but tell me you didn’t give in, before I pass out.”
“No, we didn’t have sex. But he did kiss me and my panties nearly fell straight to my ankles,” she chuckled. “He stopped himself, thank god, or I would have had him right there on the floor.”
“You were drunk.”
“Oh, yeah, ridiculous drunk. He ordered steaks delivered while he drove me home, and then sliced the steak for me and practically put it in my mouth.” She couldn’t sit still, the memory forcing her up from the couch to pace. She’d spent the entire morning and half the night trying to forget everything about him, and of course the other half had been consumed with remembering everything about him.
“Shit. Fire.” Lucy’s glance followed her. “I want some. Can we have him? "
― Lizzie Ashworth , His to Lose (Cannon Cousins, #4)
