Hardpressed

Author: P Hana

Page 49

   

“What are you doing here?” In the space of a few seconds my heart was racing. I was on display, clad only in my underwear now, as he stalked closer.

“Who was that?” His voice was calm and low.

“James.”

His hand went to my shoulder, gently brushing the sand off of my skin. My body warmed at the contact. I secretly wished his hands would roam, but they slid away. He crossed his arms and stared.

“Frolicking on the beach with James. That doesn’t sound so innocent.”

It wasn’t, but I’d never tell him that.

“Are you fucking him yet?”

I rolled my eyes. I was growing tired of his insistence that I was sleeping with James. “Don’t you think if I were fucking him, I’d be doing it right now?”

“Not unless you want me to bludgeon him to death. If so, by all means invite him up next time.”

He came closer. The air crackled between us. The heat of his body rolled off in waves with the sexual tension that was about to drive me straight out of my mind. All the progress I’d made trying to work him out of my system had just disintegrated. I ached to fist my hands in his hair, crush my body to his.

“What about Sophia?” My voice was low. I almost hoped he hadn’t heard me so I wouldn’t have to hear his answer.

“What about her?”

My jaw clenched. “Are you fucking her?” I wasn’t supposed to care, but I had to know.

“Would it matter?” His expression was impassive, cold even.

A wicked jealousy blazed through me. I narrowed my eyes. I had no right to be angry, but I was. She was a vile bitch, and I wanted nothing more than to scratch her fucking eyes out every time I saw her.

That she could give Blake what he needed in bed only added fuel to the fire. I turned around and tried to ignore the pull of Blake’s body behind me. I fished out some jeans and a V-neck T-shirt that was tight and always gave him a good view of the girls. He couldn’t keep his hands off me when I wore it. My brain was short-circuiting like crazy. I should make this quick and leave before I did something stupid.

I opened my underwear drawer and grabbed a dry pair. Before I closed the drawer I paused. I spun back around. “Have you been in here?”

“Missing something?” He grinned.

“You stole my vibrator. Who does that?”

“I told you before I was the only one who was going to make you come. By the sound of it, that hasn’t changed.”

I was speechless.

He closed the distance between us, nudging my legs apart with his thigh. He placed his hand over my throat and drew a broad path of fire over my breast and down my hip.

“I have a feeling you’re due though.”

My breath hitched at the sudden contact of his hands on my skin. With painstaking patience, he traced the band of my underwear, then over my ass and back down the front where he teased the flesh of my inner thigh. His touch was electric, jolting through me almost painfully. I mustered the strength to push his hand away, praying he’d leave me be, but he only came at me again, cupping me more aggressively through the thin cotton of my panties.

“Don’t, Blake. I can’t.” But God, did I want to. His mouth and hands on me, to end this terrible torture.

His fingers pressed deliciously against me, stroking me through the separation of the fabric.

“This is mine, Erica. I own your pleasure. You and I both know it,” he whispered in my ear, kissing my neck and trailing his tongue along the curve of my ear. Sweet Jesus.

“I can’t… I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. You even want to.”

He pushed my panties to the side and thumbed my clit.

“Fuck, you’re already wet for me.” His voice was rough, almost pained.

I sucked in a sharp breath, stifling a moan. The direct contact of his expert strokes sent me into orbit. My head fell back and I wanted to cry out for the feelings that rushed over me.

“Do you miss this? My hands on you, fucking you?”

I bit my lip, not wanting to answer. Seconds later, I was coming. I gripped his shoulders for balance as the force of the orgasm consumed me. My nails dug in as wave after wave pulsed through me. Heat prickled my skin, and my mind filled with the singular pleasure that only Blake could give me. Fuck, it had been too long. Need this. Need you. I wanted so badly to tell him.

He pressed soft kisses along my neck and shoulder as the aftershocks tapered off.

“More?”

The vibration of his voice almost launched me into a frenzy all over again. His fingers slid lower into my folds until he was right at the entrance of my pussy, exerting the slightest pressure as if he meant to push into me. He could be there so easily, and then his cock. The bed was right there. We could steal a moment and no one would know.

But one indiscretion would only lead to more. I had to get back in control. I had to. I shook my head and took a deep breath to calm my frayed nerves.

“No.” My voice was breathy, almost pleading. I pushed his hand away and sidestepped him. I moved unsteadily to the bed with my clothes, my legs weak. My head buzzed as I quickly dressed. He watched, his face seemingly calm, but a storm brewed in his eyes.

I knew that look. It usually came seconds before he had me pressed up against some hard surface, fucking me or making me wish he were. He leaned back onto the dresser, crossing his legs at the ankle, and sucked the moisture from his fingers. His jeans strained over an erection that he made no effort to conceal.

Fucking hell. I tore my gaze away and struggled with the button of my fly. My hands were trembling too hard. I finally managed it and paused briefly in front of the mirror to assess the tangled sandy mess that was my hair. I couldn’t risk a shower right now. Tangled and sandy would have to do.

I met his gaze again. “I have to go.”

“With him?”

“No, I’m going home.”

“This is your home.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I spent most of the next day vacillating between fantasizing about Blake’s hands on me again and scolding myself for letting him put them there to begin with.

His words had hit me hard. Homeless and rootless, I’d been floating through my life since leaving him. A satellite in orbit with no destination, no purpose. The most solid ground for me was with Blake, a place I’d abandoned. Even when our lives hung in the balance, I couldn’t deny that.

The moment at the apartment had been brief, but I was walking a dangerous line. What if he started pursuing me again? I’d finally gotten Daniel and Connor off his scent, and here I was dancing with disaster again.

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