Slow Ride (Fast Track #5)(27)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Diesel paused in the middle of turning on the bedside lamp. “I’d tell you you’re beautiful but you already know it.”

She didn’t always know that. She was confident, for the most part, in her looks and in her personality, but lately she’d been doubting everything. Who she was. How she carried herself. What the future held for her. A little reassurance and ego stroking wouldn’t be a bad thing. “Doesn’t hurt to hear it said out loud.”

Diesel came toward her and cupped her face with both his hands. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, in a tone so soft and sincere that Tuesday felt her breath catch.

There was no control with him, that’s what she was learning. He constantly knocked her off-kilter, shifting from arrogant to tender to dominating to gentle.

She liked it.

She liked him.

And she didn’t know what that meant.

Except that she was starting to think he was more than just a casual hookup.

He was . . . something more.

Maybe she had known that since the second she had cried on his shirt at her father’s funeral.

“Oh, God,” she whispered when his tongue swept over her bottom lip. She never knew what to expect from him, but she always knew she was going to enjoy it.

Warmth was flooding between her legs already and she couldn’t prevent herself from bumping up against his erection. She wanted to see him naked, touch his hard muscles with her bare fingers. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, a typical guy uniform, though the cut and quality said they weren’t from the local discount store. From the brief glimpse into his bedrooms, it was clear Diesel liked nice things, and he had the money to purchase them. Which meant he wouldn’t be wearing some cheap tightie-whities.

She found the snap of his jeans and she fumbled with it as he dragged his tongue from one corner of her mouth to the other. He was driving her insane with all that teasing and she just suddenly wanted him inside her more than anything else. Screw the foreplay, she wanted cock.

“Hey. Slow down,” he told her, knocking her hand off of his button.

Never had she thought of herself as a whimperer but at that moment she was definitely one. What leaped out of her mouth was a whimper and a whine all rolled into one. “Come on, seriously? Just let me have a feel.”

He nuzzled her ear, his tongue slipping inside with a damp tickle.

Tuesday shivered and tried for the button again, but he held her hand still against the waist of his jeans. “Now you’ve become the dude and I’m the chick. I want to take it slow and you’re all about the wham-bam.”

“What’s wrong with the wham-bam?” she asked. “Sometimes there is a time and place for it, and I think now is one of them.”

“Well, I disagree. And I’m the one in charge.” Diesel stepped back completely.

Tuesday was starting to really hate it when he did that.

But then he reached out and in one swift motion peeled her tank top off. There he was again—totally unpredictable. But this had a positive result. She was out of her already sweaty tank top and standing in front of him in her bra, stretchy pants, and riding boots. If that didn’t force the man out of his pants, she was going to be seriously impressed with his control.

It was a push-up bra, after all. The girls were shoved high and tight and a quick glance down showed they were looking mighty fine, if she did say so herself.

“You like what you see?” he asked her with a sly grin. “Because I do.”

“They’re not bad in a bra,” she admitted. “And I’ve been told my ni**les are one of my better features.”

“Oh really? And who the f**k told you that?”

Was that some sort of ridiculous jealousy rearing its head? Tuesday grinned. “The dozens and dozens of men I’ve slept with. Songs have been written about my ni**les. Artwork created. Lives changed forever after an encounter with La Nipples.”

His head tilted. “You’re a smart-ass.”

“Always.”

“But you’re playing with fire.”

Actually she was feeling pretty pleased with herself. It was fun to turn the tables on him.

Except she couldn’t hold control for long. Diesel took it right back by stripping off his T-shirt and showing her one of the most amazing male chests she’d ever seen outside of a calendar. Flipping his hair out of his eyes, he lifted his arm to finish what the flick of his neck hadn’t completed, and the whole motion made Tuesday’s mouth go dry. His muscles were rippling, his jeans were slipping, and she was perilously close to coming just looking at him. He had a tattoo down his right side, some kind of tribal symbol.

“Touch your ni**les,” he told her.

“What?” She had lost the thread of what they were talking about when he’d taken his shirt off.

“Touch your ni**les since they’re so damn amazing. Show me how good they feel.”

She’d much rather touch his but she knew he wasn’t going to allow that. “With my bra on or off?”

His nostrils actually flared. “Start with it on, then take it off.”

She could do that. “I feel like I need a playlist going.” Music would make it feel more natural, but she went for it anyway. Sliding her hands up her thighs and her waist, Tuesday finally reached her br**sts, cupping them. It was an astonishing bra. The truth was, she couldn’t really feel herself through all that padding and Lycra, or whatever miracle material had created actual cle**age for her. After a few swirls of her thumb over where she thought her ni**les should be, Tuesday decided it was time to send the bra on its way.

Diesel was standing with his thumbs hooked loosely in the pockets of his jeans, his hair falling in his eyes, his chest a study in manly perfection. He was clearly enjoying the show, but she wanted a reaction from him. She wanted him to lose control, to close the distance between them and grab her, suck her ni**les, and tear her pants off.

So to encourage him to make that happen, Tuesday bent her knee, tossed her hair back over her shoulder, and unhooked her bra. In a move she hoped was seductive, she leaned forward slightly, giving him a clear view of her cle**age, and letting the loose straps fall off her shoulders. Then she reached between her br**sts, tugged the bra, and let it drop to the floor. It was actually a very freeing feeling to stand there with him watching her while she felt confident and sexy. She ran her fingers through her hair to move it off her face first before she reached down and rubbed both her ni**les with her thumbs.

That small sensation, while he watched with an erection clearly bulging through his jeans, aroused her completely. She was so ready to have an orgasm, so ready to feel him thrusting deep inside her. Starting to work her ni**les harder, Tuesday shifted her thighs restlessly. She wanted to ask Diesel what he thought, but at the same time, she just wanted to wait for him to speak first. So she let her eyes drift half closed and she concentrated on her own body, on the feeling each tweak and tug was creating deep between her legs. When she pinched hard, she let out a soft moan.