Page 47 of Bad Boy Crush

“Thank you,” she told him.

His eyebrows pinched. “For what?”

“Everything.” She leaned over and kissed him. Just a soft peck. When she pulled away, his eyes were shut, his long lashes dusting his cheeks.

“Do it again,” he said.

She did, but this time, she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his lips to hers for a mind-melting thank-you kiss he wouldn’t soon forget.

fourteen

The kiss that started tame and sweet progressed to wild and out of control in record time. She’d climbed to her knees to properly attack him. His head was tilted, resting on the back of the sofa, his hands cupping her ass while she explored his mouth with her tongue.

He tasted incredible. And he smelled like rainwater and sawdust, each hard plane of his body unyielding under hers. She blindly felt for his shirt buttons and undid the top two. He helped her with the rest and then unshouldered his shirt. Greedy, she explored his wide, warm chest. She splayed her hands over flat nipples and ran the tips of her fingernails through the short hair on his pecs. Then she followed that dark trail to his belly button before tracking up again, taking her time as she glided along each and every muscle until she reached his bristled jaw.

He wrapped his hand around one of her thighs and pulled her roughly onto his lap. Gripping her tightly, he lifted his hips, grinding his hardness against her warm, wet center. Her mouth fell open as she stared down at him, awed. She wanted more, which was a thought she’d never entertained before now.

His caramel-colored eyes were molten the moment before he took her mouth with his and slowly, agonizingly engulfed her in flames. In the back of her mind, she registered the thunder clashing, the strobe-light flashes lighting the walls. She didn’t care. She couldn’t care. She was too turned on to care.

The biggest turn-on tonight had been the way Ant had prioritized her. He’d come to her rescue time and again, all why she’d sworn she didn’t need him. Who knew what a big turn-on that could be? She wanted him so badly she couldn’t think of anything else. Not the storm, not their past. She was consumed with the idea of feeling him inside her. Of riding him until she orgasmed. Of collapsing in a heap next to him, sweaty and satisfied.

God, she hoped she hadn’t lost her touch. She hadn’t slept with anyone other than her husband in years.

Her lips left his with a subtle smooching sound. The terrifying thought swirled around her head like a twister.

Ant, mouth damp from her kisses, lips parted, studied her face with concern.

Meanwhile, that terrifying thought gave birth to a few others. Like the fact that her thighs weren’t as slim as they used to be. Or that her stomach wasn’t flat anymore. It was one thing to rub all over him with her clothes on but a whole other thing to take them off.

“I haven’t slept with anyone since Liam,” she blurted.

His face pinched like he didn’t appreciate the reminder. “So?”

“So, what if…what if I’m not…what you like?”

He continued staring up at her for the count of five before literally dropping his head back and letting out a roar of laughter. He laughed so hard that she bounced against his chest. Even though she’d been serious, she couldn’t help joining in and laughing too.

He sobered and then reached up to swipe a tear from one of his eyes. He was still grinning when he cupped the back of her neck and tugged her face close to his. He didn’t kiss her. Not right away.

“You’re what I like.” His gaze bored into her, holding her hostage. “You, Lourdes Daniels, are one million percent what I like. Do you want to know what I expect from you?”

Her stomach had dropped when his tone shifted from playful to demanding. It was a side of him she hadn’t had access to until recent weeks, and she liked it way more than she could have guessed.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I expect you to stop thinking about anyone else, including me, for a few hours.”

“A few…hours?”

“Yep. I want you to be selfish. I want you to think only of what you need and what you want. I want you to boss me. I do something you don’t want, you tell me. I do something you do want, and you want more of, you’d better fucking tell me. Deal?”

“D-deal.” Anthony Renaldo, carte blanche. It was a fantasy come true. She wasn’t as good at this bossy thing as he was, but she tried anyway. “Same to you. If I do something you like, let me know.”

“You’ll know.” His grin was feral. “I want you to do everything to me. But not until I do it to you first.”

His hands on her ass, he stood. She locked her legs around his waist and held on while he walked through the kitchen and into the hallway.

“Left.” She pointed to her open bedroom door.