Better When He's Brave

She proceeded to tell me she knew something had to be up, that there was no way the handsome detective would willingly piss off his brother by hanging out with me, that he also wouldn’t be so handsy and affectionate because he wasn’t that way with anyone. It was the presumption that she somehow knew Titus better than I did, that she had intimate knowledge of how he operated, that sent me over the edge. Without thinking, I poked her in the center of her naked chest and told her that obviously he was that touchy-feely, was that hands-on with someone he really wanted. Her eyes had gone predatory, and before I could stop myself I reacted, lunging for her, taking her to the ground before she could get a shot in. The first rule in the Point was to never show any kind of weakness, so I attacked before I could be attacked. It was simple street logic.

There was no hair pulling. There was no delicate screeching. Nope, we went after each other with closed fists and powerful punches. She even caught the inside of my thigh with the edge of one of those lethal heels and the resulting scratch had blood spilling down my leg. It really hurt but so did all of her pointed accusations, which was why I threw myself at Titus as soon as the bathroom door clicked closed behind him.

I wasn’t thinking straight. The heat of his hands when he pulled me off the stripper, the blazing silver in his eyes as he looked at my now bloody face . . . it all scrambled my brain. All I could think was that I did want what was best for him, and that despite himself, he wanted me. I locked my hands around the back of his neck where the short brush of his hair tickled my fingers, and sealed my mouth over his as soon as I told him he was right about things never being fine.

I held on tight because I expected him to shake me off, to tell me this was too much and there was no one to put on a show for in here. I expected him to pull away with something haunting and hollow in his too blue eyes.

What I got was completely unexpected from the serious and intent Titus King. Instead of distance, I got backed into the sink so hard that the edge of the counter bit hard into my thighs. Instead of blank space, I got a man returning my kiss just as ferociously as I was giving it to him. I got a rock-hard thigh pressed between my own as my legs were forced apart and an erection that was impossible to ignore even between the layers of clothes pressed up against the tender parts of me that were suddenly every kind of achy and wet.

I jolted as a paper-towel holder got whacked hard enough with an elbow to fall off the wall as Titus lifted one of his hands and clasped it around my neck while the other dived under the hem of the simple T-shirt he had just bought for me. The bathroom was tiny and Titus was really, really not. There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver and yet he still managed to get me up on the counter and my shirt off over my head without breaking anything else or causing either of us bodily harm.

My chest was heaving and I was sure my eyes were wild as I clung to him like he was the last lifeline I was ever going to get and without him I would inevitably drown. I leaned forward and kissed him again, tasting the copper bite of blood and the warm cleanness that was somehow simply Titus. He tasted like he looked, strong, sure, and potent. He tasted like righteousness and honor. Redemption and repentance. He tasted like goodness, and I didn’t think there was ever any way I was going to get enough of it.

I twirled my tongue around his. I sucked him in and let him fill me up from the inside. My nails dug into his skin when I felt him tug impatiently at the cups of the new bra I had just bought. The black fabric was no match for his questing fingers and I thought I was going to pass out from pleasure when the pad of his thumb swept over the crest of one suddenly puckered nipple. I gasped into his mouth and he just pulled me closer to that ridge behind his zipper and settled even more firmly into the kiss that was making me see stars.

There had been those who touched me in the past, who knew what they were doing, who made me feel wanted, beautiful, and necessary. But no one had ever made me feel owned and devoured the way Titus did. It was the brush of his thumb back and forth, it was the clench of his fingers at my nape, and it was the pressure from his leg as he pulled me closer and closer. He was everywhere, even where we weren’t touching, and I had a feeling there was never going to be a way for me to get around him, which meant I was going to have to go inside of him to find space.

I adored the gruff, far-too-serious Titus that I tormented daily. But the unhinged, uncontrolled Titus was irresistible as he roughly palmed my now naked breast and grunted at me when I snaked a hand between us to fondle that hard length throbbing between us. The wild inside of him when he let it out was the most intoxicating thing I had ever seen and felt, and I knew I better eat every single second of it up while I got the chance. Because once he got his wits back, Titus was going to be furious that he had let the lock off the cage and that his inner beast had been allowed to run free for a few stolen moments in the bathroom of a strip club.

My fingers clawed at the denim that was keeping him from me and I threw back my head with a sudden jerk as his mouth left mine and landed with precision on the nipple he had been torturing with a rough touch. Fire zipped along every nerve ending and something more than passion started to buzz in my ears.

His mouth was hotter than hot and it was greedy. I was stunned and turned on beyond belief that my stalwart detective didn’t seem to care about soft touches and gentle caresses. He was all forceful hands and the sting of strong teeth. Titus was rough, and it was un-fucking-believable. I muttered his name and tried to get my hands under his heavy leather belt and behind his zipper but there wasn’t enough room. We were too close to each other and he had me trapped while he consumed my sensitive skin with his mouth. I panted and wiggled, wanting to get in on some of the touching action myself, but he wouldn’t relent. In fact those thick fingers in my hair tightened and pulled hard enough to make my eyes water just a little bit.