Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths #4)(34)
Author: K.A. Tucker

“Are you upset about something?” My eyes find Mercy’s double-Ds waiting for me when I look down. Case in point. Though this doesn’t appear to be without strings anymore.

I give her my best dimpled grin. “Do I look upset?” Shit, do I?

“So what’s going on with that lawyer from your office?” she asks innocently.

“Just a friend,” I admit, not bothering to correct her on the lawyer piece.

“A friend like me?” Her hand slides down the front of my pants. Mercy giggles as she feels the hard-on I’ve been carrying around since Reese stalked into the bar in her red dress. “So this is okay? I mean, she could join if she wanted to.”

I struggle to keep beer from spraying out of my mouth with my burst of laughter as I picture Reese’s face in response to that proposition. It’s followed by a rush of blood southward. Damn, that could be hot. I wonder if she’d be into that?

Cool hands slide up under my shirt and then back down to my belt. “Want your gift now?”

Oh, hell. I stall her fingers with my hand. Where is Reese? Her friends are at a table pounding shots of tequila and Jäger, but she’s not there. Scanning the crowd, I catch Kacey’s eye. I don’t know when she got here. I give her a wave. She responds with a nod toward Mercy and then that “what are you doing?” glare.

“I leave you alone for two minutes . . .” I hear Reese’s voice—laced with annoyance—coming from my left and I quickly maneuver out of Mercy’s grasp to wrap both arms around Reese’s body in a close-fitting hug.

“Please don’t leave me again,” I whisper into her ear. “I’m defenseless against her.”

“Jackass,” she mutters, glaring up at me. I can’t tell, but I think she may be genuinely mad at me. There’s definitely a spark of anger in those gorgeous eyes.

So I drop a lightning-fast kiss on her lips and beg, “Save me from her silicone.”

She cocks her head to the side, her gaze dipping down to my mouth. “You know you’re a pig, right?” The bite is gone from her tone, though. In fact, I feel her leaning farther into me.

“Yeah, but I’m your pig tonight.”

“You weren’t lying.”

I smile. “Mama bought me two sets.”

“I didn’t think they even made them for a bed this big,” she murmurs, her finger tracing over a grinning Buzz Lightyear. Her gaze roams my room—the plain blackout curtains, a couple of empty beer bottles lining the dresser, and a wall of half-naked football cheerleaders, each poster signed and personalized to me.

“It’s exactly as I pictured it.” She steps over to read one of the messages and then shakes her head. “So, when do you plan on growing up?”

“Never. Just call me Peter Pan.” I don’t even notice the posters anymore. They’re like wallpaper. I figured I’d toss them when I move, whenever that is. I’ve actually started scanning the newspapers for a one-bedroom apartment, but the very idea of living alone isn’t appealing. That’s the thing I like about living in a house with five guys—there’s always someone around, always people coming and going. Just like growing up with my brothers and Elsie.

I thrive on that kind of chaos.

She glances coyly over her shoulder at me before her attention drifts to another poster—a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader who I met at a tailgate party and who developed a little crush on me. “So these are all fairies? Where are their wings?”

“Removable,” I offer, taking slow steps toward her, her bare shoulders and smooth skin begging to be touched. After the slew of almosts, I can’t believe I finally have Reese in my bedroom. I’ve never worked this hard to get laid in my entire life.

“As are their panties, I’m sure you discovered quickly,” I hear her mutter under her breath, her eyes still searching the wall, her jaw working against itself.

“How about you focus less on these women and more on the soon-to-be-naked guy standing behind you. If that really is your thing . . . I’m still wondering.”

I grunt as her sharp elbow flies back to jab my stomach, but it doesn’t dissuade me from shifting her hair off to one shoulder, giving my mouth access to her slender neck.

“You know, you’re a lot different than I thought,” she purrs, her body falling back into my chest, her head tilting up to give me a full view down the top of her dress.

I can’t help myself from grabbing her hips and jerking that full ass of hers into me, to let her feel how bad I want her. She rocks her hips against me in response; such a simple move and yet it’s driving me wild.

“How so?” I’ve been eyeing her dress for access points all night, so I know that the zipper runs along her rib cage instead of her back. Slipping my fingers up under her arm, I locate the slider and tug it gently. The tautness in the top of the dress immediately gives, the material folding over itself and falling to uncover a matching red lace bra. Another quick move by my fingers and I have that dropping to the floor.

“I don’t know. You just . . .” Her words fade in a heavy sigh as I reach up to fill my hands with her tits, trying hard not to squeeze them too tight. I don’t know what it is about the way she sighs, but it makes my ability to restrain myself vanish.

I slide my hands down her waist, my fingers working their way under the dress and panties until I’m able to push them into a heap on the floor and she’s stepping out of them without my request. Kicking them out of the way, I grab her waist and spin her around to face me. “Good, different?” I ask with a playful smirk as I press her up against the wall and force her legs apart, enough to make room for me as I fit my body between them.

I won’t lie. I’ve been in this exact position with women many times before. But being here now, with Reese, somehow feels new.

Her breath hitches, her arms moving to wrap around my neck and yank me down to meet her mouth, slipping her tongue in and out before I can even catch it. “Yes,” she moans, and I’m not sure if that’s a yes to my question or to what’s coming. Her clawing fingers at my back, my shirt bunching up within her hands, reminds me that I’m still fully dressed. Something I completely forgot about, distracted by the taste and softness of this tumultuous, vindictive woman’s lips.

My wild horse.

“Why is it I always end up naked before you?” I feel her cool hands retreat down to the hem of my shirt and slip under to drag it up. I break away long enough to yank it over my head and toe off my shoes, then I dive back against her.

Two hands pushing against my chest stop me.

Biting her bottom lip in a way that makes me want to shove her hands away so I can bite it for her, I heave a sigh. Her fingers assess the ridges of my chest, trailing down to my stomach.

“You love my body, don’t you?” I murmur.

Heated eyes lift to meet mine, boring into me with a new intensity I hadn’t expected, and I can’t stop myself from leaning in, more than eager to feel her skin. Once again, her hands push back to stop me.

“It’s been a while for me,” she admits, her gaze dropping to my belt buckle, her long lashes fluttering. Is she nervous?

“Since your ex?” I’m pretty sure the answer to that is yes, given what I overheard the other week when I surprised a sick Reese at her home.

A single nod answers me. Reaching down, her fingers make quick work of my belt and zipper, unfastening them until the dress pants I wore to work today are hanging open, showing off the sizeable bulge I have for her under my briefs. I catch her wrists and gently pull them back, allowing me space to step in until the cool metal of her piercing grazes my chest. I bend down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “You just tell me how fast or slow to go then, okay?”

In response, she pulls out of my loose grip. One arm reaches around to dig into my back pocket, seizing my wallet. She retrieves the condom waiting inside and tosses my wallet to the side as if it were trash.

“Well, you seem to remember the basics, at least,” I mutter wryly.

“Oh, I remember more than the basics.” Her palms slide slowly, all the way up the front of my body as if memorizing it surface, until her hands coil around my neck, her head dipping back to regard me with a smirk. “I just hope you’re decent or all this buildup will be rather disappointing.”

My head falls back as a loud bark of laughter escapes me. So do I. I’ve never had a problem, but with this girl . . . A sudden case of nerves hits me. “As long as I can get through those cobwebs, I should be fine.”

Thanks to the lamp I turned on when we came in, I catch her cheeks changing color. Maybe that’s why she decides to slap the condom into my hand and yank my pants and briefs down, barely making the effort to get the elastic around my dick.

My hips pull back in reaction. “Hey! Why are you intent on breaking it!” Unwilling to let her take control here—she’s either angry or nervous; either way, my vital body part will not become a casualty—I pin her hands up above her head with one arm before kicking off my pants and briefs.

She opens her mouth to say something but I cut her off with a deep kiss, slipping my tongue in to take complete control of her mouth, while my free hand runs up her inner thigh.

She may be nervous, but she’s soft and wet and so damn ready.

“Screw the foreplay,” she growls against my mouth, a leg lifting and hooking around my thighs to pull me against her. Her hands struggle against my grip but I don’t relent.

And I’m torn between laughing and groaning. Fuck. Normally, I try to keep my pants on as long as possible because once they’re off, I have a five-minute threshold until I need to be in something. And I need to be in her. Right now. She’s so close. Just a quick maneuver and I’m golden. And then she has to go and say that!

Except, the small mewling sounds she’s trying to stifle as my thumb and fingers work against her is enough to hold me back. Breaking free of her mouth to shift my attention to her neck, I take my time inhaling that strawberries-and-cream scent as my tongue trails the curves of her collarbone. Her body’s still squirming against my hand, her breathing growing more ragged and uneven. I keep those hands pinned above her head until I lose my reach as my knees hits the floor.

“I need more time for—” She gasps when my tongue catches the first sweet taste of her, my arms hooked tight under her thighs, my shoulders holding her against the wall.

She cries out, grabbing fistfuls of my hair until my scalp hurts. I don’t give a shit; this reaction is worth the pain. It’s times like these when I’m happy I can bench press almost double my weight, because I have no problem keeping her writhing body still.

My name tumbles from her mouth in a moan as a thump sounds—her head falling back against the wall. “Okay, fine.” She resigns herself to the fact that I’m not letting her go. Her fingers slowly loosen their grip of my hair, until they’re rubbing my head where it’s sore, her thighs falling apart as they relax slightly. And when she comes?

Jesus.

I kind of wish the music weren’t so loud because if the guys had heard that, I’d be getting pats on my back for weeks.

The last quiver through her body is barely done when I’m on my feet. She falls into me as I lift and carry her to my bed. Tossing her gently, I reach into my nightstand for another condom—I’m not about to go looking for the one lying on the floor.

Her eyes are at half-mast as she peers up at me, a perfect balance to her flustered cheeks and the puffy lips I must have given her from kissing her so hard. Downright sexy.

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” I tease, stretching over her. If she does, I’ll die.

A sly smile curls her mouth as one hand cups the back of my neck while the other reaches down to grab me and guide me into her. “If I do, then you’re doing something terribly wrong,” she whispers, smiling wryly, adding, “Just don’t hurt me.”

“Do you think I’m an amateur?” Hurt her? I’ll be lucky to get all the way in her before I lose it. And then I will look like an amateur. She feels too damn good and tight. Better than I remember it feeling in a long time. And different. I’m sure it’s just the anticipation, dragged out over months and multiple failed attempts.

A deep, throaty laugh spills out of her, her muscles clenching, making her constrict around me.

“How about you hold off on the laughter until after,” I tease, gritting my teeth. And then I’m kissing her, happy to have her tongue in my mouth again as I push in slowly, sliding a hand under her hips to lift and angle her the right way.

It’s not long before there’s no trace of humor in her features, her eyes burning into mine, her slick body slipping against mine, her breathing getting raspy as we rock against each other, picking up speed and intensity quickly. Sharp nails dig into my shoulder blades as she demands, “Deeper,” and I groan, knowing I won’t last another minute like this.