Page 25 of Rough and Rugged
“It’s a phrase. It means you were daydreaming like you had all the time to indulge in gathering wool. It’s something my grandmother used to say.”
“Cute. And yeah, I guess I was.” I chuckled. “I’m not sure you’ll want to hear what I was thinking.”
“Sure I do. That’s the beauty of hookups.”
My gut sank and I stared at my hands. There was no way I could look at him now. “Fair. But that’s kind of what I was thinking. This feels more natural than any previous hookup. It kind of freaked me out.”
Everett pulled into the Pine Cone Inn, proving how deep in thought I’d been. “Do you want me just to drop you off?”
“God, no. I want you. My dick might murder me if I sent you away.”
Everett smiled, and my heart went all twitter-pated. Yep. Gotta keep this a hookup. It would not serve me well to fall for a one-night stand.
“Race you,” I said, needing to get out of the truck filled with emotion and into my room where we could focus on lust.
Everett’s steps reverberated behind me as I raced into the front door. The night clerk jerked awake at my entrance, and I slowed my steps. I nodded but speed-walked to the elevator. I could feel Everett behind me, his body heat alone setting off tingles. The elevator ride was silent, but the space buzzed with sexual tension. I’d never felt this keyed up, and knew once we were behind closed doors all bets were off—Everett would consume me.
His pinky reached out, grazing my finger, and curling around it. I sucked in a breath. My heart pounded at the simple touch, and my pulse raced faster. I might not survive his full touch, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
The second the elevator doors closed, Everett blocked me against the wall. I noticed it was a theme with him. He liked to cage me, to trap me with his body.
Every one of my senses flooded with him. I might be worried I was being manipulated by anyone else, but not with Everett. There was something about him that was honest. Between the directness and seeking consent, I couldn’t fathom him needing to manipulate people.
“Can I help you?” I teased, licking my lips.
“Oh, baby, you’re gonna regret that.” Everett’s eyes were molten, drowning me in lust.
I gulped, more turned on than I thought possible. The slam of a door was the only thing that interrupted our bubble. Everett grasped my hand and led the charge. He turned right, and I chuckled.
“Other direction.”
He spun, not breaking his stride, and slowed when he realized he still didn’t know the room number.
“453.”
With that, he was off again, stopping in front of my door and crowding me from behind as he waited for me to open it.
Two steps into the room, and he hauled me up, smashing his mouth to mine. His hands ran over my body, shoving the hoodie I wore over my head. When his hot palms hit my skin, I moaned. My fingers shook as I unbuttoned his flannel, struggling to get the buttons undone with him kissing me and desire pouring through my veins.
“I take it back. I hate this shirt. It’s stupid.”
Everett chuckled and dropped me, and I whined. But again, I’d deny it if anyone mentioned it. He raised a brow, before slowly, so very slowly, unbuttoning his shirt. Each inch of skin he revealed had my cock leaking more.
There were so many tattoos. Beautiful expanses of ink covered his chest.
I rubbed my cock for some relief, whimpering as I drank him in. “Not fair, Lumbergrump.”
Everett smirked, dropping his shirt on the floor and kicking off his boots. I followed suit, stalling when he went for his skintight jeans, too eager to see beneath.
“Clothes off, Dimples.”
“But…” I waved my hand in front of him.
He said nothing, only crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser. Groaning, I kicked off my shoes, shoved my jeans down, and turned to climb onto the bed. He sucked in a breath, then growled.
“Fuck, they’re better than I ever imagined.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Everett. He stood closer to the bed, his jeans mid-thigh and black boxer briefs peeking out.