Slow Ride (Fast Track #5)(44)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Tuesday forgot all about her underwire. Anal sex. She’d let him in the back door and she didn’t remember it? “You can’t be serious.” He couldn’t be. She would know if his you-know-what went you-know-where.

He swatted her butt, something he seemed to really love to do, given the rate with which he did it. “No, I’m not serious. We didn’t do anything at all. You passed out on me on the couch and I brought you in here. There’s water on the nightstand if you need it.”

“Does a chicken have a pecker? Yes, I need water.” Relieved that she hadn’t missed some potentially erotic encounter, Tuesday rolled very, very carefully onto her side and reached for the glass. “Thank you.”

She drank the entire glass in three gulps then lay back down with a sigh. “Why do I do this to myself?”

“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question?”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” She had been upset about her mother, that’s why she had reached for the wine. The problem was, which she could admit, was that she had no shutoff valve. Once she started drinking, she lost track of how much she’d had, and then suddenly it was all ugly. She was glad Diesel had been there with her because the idea that she had blacked out and could have done anything was scary. Granted, she’d just been in her own place and probably would have just passed out on the couch, but it was still unnerving. “So you really don’t think my mother is dating her high school sweetheart?”

“No. It’s just a couple of old friends getting together.”

She was glad he didn’t say something like she needed to accept at some point that her mother might date and remarry, because while somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that, she sure in the hell didn’t want it to happen anytime soon.

“I’m holding you to that,” she told him.

He gave a low, grumbling laugh. “Come here and give me a kiss.”

The look he was giving her, one of lust, but something else, something like genuine affection, made her heart squeeze. Feeling a wave of tenderness for him, Tuesday scooted over toward him again. “I guess I could do that.”

It was a nice, slow, sensual kiss. They moved easily together. Tuesday was amazed by that, by how natural it was with Diesel. And by how with just a single touch, a look, a word, he could utterly and completely turn her on.

She broke off the kiss and looked down at him, propped up on his chest with her elbows. “By the way, thank you for putting me to bed.”

“You’re welcome.” He pulled her on top of him in one smooth move, his erection connecting with her sweet spot.

The move left her both breathless and highly aroused.

“Now, unless you have any objections, I’m going to keep you in bed.”

Shaking her head, she also verbalized the gesture, just in case he had any doubt as to her answer. “No, no objections.”

She still felt a little rough, but she figured that was nothing an orgasm couldn’t fix.

“Good.” He pulled her head down for a kiss.

Tuesday felt a pang of self-consciousness. She probably didn’t have the freshest breath ever.

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

“I need to brush my teeth.” She flicked her hair out of her eyes.

“I don’t want to kiss a mint, I want to kiss you.”

Okay, then, that was hot. This time when he put his hand on the back of her neck to guide her toward him, she didn’t resist. If he didn’t care, she sure wasn’t going to. Kissing Diesel like this, her body splayed across his from her br**sts down to her toes was dangerous. It was intense, intimate, arousing, yes, but something more than that. Here she was, slightly hungover and feeling like she wasn’t capable of putting effort into anything whatsoever at the moment, yet she knew she would with Diesel. There was something incredibly sexy about knowing he saw her less-than-perfect side and didn’t give a shit.

She kissed him hard, enjoying the more powerful position of being on top. Digging her hands into his hair, she bit his bottom lip. Something about the sweep of his tongue inside her mouth, his hands sliding across her back, the way he was clearly going to take it gentle with her, made her want it rough.

He sucked in a breath when she nipped him. “Oh, someone’s feeling frisky.”

Looking down into his brown eyes, she forgot her headache, forgot her sore muscles, and was only aware of him and the deep, needy ache he created between her legs. Rocking her hips onto his erection, she just gave him a wicked smile. “I’m sopping wet,” she told him. “You know what that means.”

His finger snaked down between their bodies and slipped inside her panties and into her without preamble. Tuesday gasped, rolling her head back.

“Well, well, so you are . . . tell me what that means, sweetheart.” He hooked his index finger inside her, hitting all her pleasure spots perfectly.

She forgot to answer him for a second, just enjoying the contact, moving her hips slowly and sensually so that her body moved with his finger. It was a slow tease . . . it seemed satisfying at first, then it wasn’t enough to fill her, even when she started rocking faster, pumping with a quick, hard rhythm.

“It means you need to f**k me,” she said, breathless, hair a wild tangle around her face, her body heating up from pleasure, her face resting on his shoulder.

Diesel tugged her hair hard enough that it both aroused her and forced her back off of him. That little sting wasn’t painful so much as it was exciting and she said, “What?”

His eyes were dark with desire, his hand still fisted into the back of her hair. “I think in this position you need to f**k me. So get to it.”

It should have pissed her off, his roughness, his dominating words in bed. It just turned her on even more. She was so wet that when he pulled his finger out of her, she felt the trail of her own arousal across her thigh. When another tug of her hair had her up in a sitting position, Tuesday yanked her T-shirt off with frantic pulls. She just wanted to be naked and be on him, slamming their bodies together.

“That’s it,” he told her. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he lifted them both up slightly off the bed so he could dispense with his boxers.

There was no time to worry about her panties. They were shoved to the side from his attentions and that was good enough for her. Tuesday took his erection into her hand, gave it a few greedy strokes, then aligned herself with the tip of his penis. When she sank down onto him, they both moaned.