The Last Guy

She whimpers and pushes her pelvis up to rub against my hips. “I’m ready for you to fuck me.”

I laugh and kiss her on the lips. “Beg me,” I say and then lean down and take one of her tits in my mouth and suck.

“Cade, please . . .” Her fingers claw at me, pulling me down and crushing our bodies together.

Fuck me. I can’t wait any longer to get my cock inside her.

I get up to grab a condom. We’d been pretty careless last time, and I have no intention of pulling out tonight. I rip it open, slide it on, and go back to her.

“I’m clean,” I tell her. “I know what the gossip magazines say about me, but I’m selective about who I fuck.”

“Am I just a fuck?” she asks.

Her hair is everywhere, and I lean over and tuck it behind her ear. “Never.”

My fingers slip inside her again, sliding, curling over the bundle of nerves in her G-spot. I suck her clit—fuck I can’t get enough. I grab her hip to pull her closer.

Need claws at me as my cock pushes inside her. She’s so wet it’s as smooth as silk.

I flip her over like a ragdoll, raise her hips, and slide inside her on a groan. I grunt and toss my head back, maneuvering to get deeper. More of her.

But something’s missing.

“No,” I growl and flip her back over. “I want to see your face.”

“Whatever you want,” she whispers.

I bury my face in her neck and fuck her hard. I twist my hips for a new position, deeper, grinding, and she writhes underneath me.

“More,” she begs, grabbing my shoulders.

Our sex is hot, fast, and furious, my strokes scooting us up to the headboard. She calls out and clings to me, milking my cock with her orgasm.

I go over right after, vibrating as I roar my release. I arch my back, grabbing her hands and riding it out, my cock tightening and expanding.

Collapsing down, I pull her up to the pillows and settle her in front of me with her back to my chest. “Stone,” I stop and swallow, my voice thick. “That was . . . fucking amazing.”

“Yeah.”

Her stomach rumbles.

I rise up and brush a hand down to cup her shoulder. “We never had dinner.”

She turns to face me, her expression soft. “I have Door Dash. How do you feel about Doritos Locos Tacos?”

I kiss her nose. “I’m in, babe.”

All the way in.

Rebecca

CADE’S DRESS SHIRT is the only thing covering my naked body, which is covered in the scent of his expensive body wash. I’d taken a quick shower while he waited for our delivery, and now we’re sitting facing each other with two beers, a pile of orange and white Taco Bell wrappers, and hot sauce packets scattered between us.

“I like the nacho cheese best.”

“I bet I could whip up a healthier version of this,” Cade says, examining the vivid red-orange shell. An unexpected surge of happiness filters through my stomach at his words. I watch as he takes a bite and groans, nodding. “Mm—maybe later.”

We both sit back crunching and grinning. I allow my eyes to run down the black silk robe he’s wearing. It’s open to reveal the lines in his stomach, and my body hums thinking how I was just all over that. Naked.

My mind is absolutely blissed out, and I’m taking a sip of Modelo when, “Oh!” A fluffy white head peeks out from behind the black leather sofa. “Cade! It’s your kitty!” I put my beer down and jump up.

“Killer, meet the famous Rebecca Fieldstone. Stone for short.” His rich voice follows me as I tiptoe around the glass coffee table toward the tiny white furball.

Cutting my eyes back at him, I almost sigh audibly from the sight of that gorgeous man draped in black silk and surrounded by tacos. I’m pretty sure I’ve died and gone to heaven.

A little mew pulls me back to Earth. “Killer? You call this pretty kitty Killer?”

“Don’t be fooled. She’s like that bunny from Monty Python.” The tease in his voice does all kinds of crazy things to my insides.

“Is that so?” I kneel down to stroke her soft, white head. “Then I’d better get the Holy Hand Grenade.”

“Of Antioch.”

That makes me laugh, and I scratch the side of Killer’s cheek. She studies me with huge blue eyes then pushes forward against my hand, rubbing along my forearm. “You are a surprise a minute, Cade Hill.”

“I could say the same to you.”

His voice is low and rich, and my stomach flutters so hard, I know I won’t be eating any more tacos tonight. I stand, shaking my head.

“What?” he asks.

Racking my brain, I try to think of something to say besides, Let me have all your babies! My red-tipped toes sink into the plush black rug covering the dark wood floors of his apartment, and I look around his ultimate bachelor pad as his cute white cat trots behind me.

“This is a beautiful place.” I stop in front of the enormous flat-screen TV hanging above a gas fireplace. Orange flames flicker, and it’s inviting and homey.

“My mom hired the decorator.”

“Your mom . . .” I nod, turning my back to the black television and narrowing my eyes in pretend annoyance. “You never said why you weren’t with your mom tonight.”

He leans back, and that robe falls open a little more, revealing one side of the V of muscle disappearing into his boxer briefs. “You never said why you were with Phil.”

A challenge. “I asked first,” I say.

“You know, you’re very sexy standing there in only my dress shirt.” He’s grinning, and the appreciative smile on his lips is like hot liquid in my veins.

His eyes cut away, and he exhales, sitting forward to collect our paper wrappers and stuff them into the white bag.

“I can help with that.” I step forward and kneel in front of him, placing our uneaten tacos on the glass coffee table beside our beers.

“My mom asked me to take Sissy out,” he says, not lifting his eyes. “She’s a friend of the family, just moved to Houston. Doesn’t know anybody.”

I sit back on my feet and look up at him. “Chas thought I should date some random guy so I’d have a rebound . . . that wasn’t you.”

Cade’s gaze is level, not smiling. “Were you planning to sleep with him?”

“No!” I whisper-shout. “I didn’t even want to go out with him, really. We were just looking at this silly dating site, and Chas clicked something that apparently meant ‘Let’s date right now!’ and then she said I had to go or I’d be blackballed and he didn’t even look like his picture and then he started talking like a Klingon and—”

Cade’s warm hands cup my cheeks, and he pulls me in for a rough kiss. Full lips capture mine, pushing them apart and allowing his tongue to curl inside, wiping my brain. A little noise comes from my throat, and if my body was on fire before, it’s molten-hot lava now. Holding his shoulders, I scoot onto his lap in a straddle. My eyes are closed against the heat blazing in my brain, and I swear to God I ignite when his large hands grip my ass.

“Oh, Cade,” I gasp as his mouth moves to my ear.

“I want to be inside you again. Right now.”

“Yes . . .”

The man is strong as Hercules. His hands go under my butt, holding my body against his torso as he stands in one fluid movement. My arms are around his shoulders, my mouth on his cheek, his ear, his neck, kissing, touching my tongue to his salty skin, giving him a tiny bite as he carries me to his bedroom.