London Calling: BWWM New Adult Romance (Chase Brothers Book 2) Page 4

  He cocked his head. “Somehow, that look on your face looks an awful lot like judgment. I’ve seen that look on my mother’s face enough to recognize it.” This close, he could see the flecks of green in her hazel eyes. And even better, he could tell that even though she was slim, those curves of hers weren’t enhanced. Enough to overflow his big hands. The evil side of his brain conjured an image of him fucking those honey-brown tits. What color would her nipples be? Mocha? An even more alluring image replaced it. This one had him fucking her ass cheeks. His cock sliding between the firm, oil-slick globes as he held on tight to her flesh. Fuck! He was a dirty boy. And fuck if he didn't want to show her just how dirty.

  He shook his head to rid himself of the image. Release her and fucking find Miriam.

  She nodded and her hair brushed his cheek. “Is that why you’re seeing escorts? Mommy issues?”

  His muscles went tight as he fought to keep from nuzzling and inhaling deep. God, she smelled good. “You have a smart mouth for a Yank.”

  She glowered at him. “And you have pretty teeth for a Brit.”

  She licked her lips again and the action made his mouth water. He, he wanted to kiss the sass right off of her. Swaying a little, he said, "I needed Miriam."

  "Sorry, you got me instead. And since you don’t want to talk—"

  He studied her intently as both hands reached behind her. With his body pressed flush against hers, his fingers worked the material over the hook. “Who said I wanted to talk to Miriam?”

  Jasmine immediately attempted to flatten herself into the wall, but unfortunately for both of them, all she managed to do was trap his hands and bring their bodies closer together. He frowned and halted momentarily. "I'm not—" He shook his head. "I wouldn't hurt you."

  "Isn’t that what the praying mantis says just before biting off the head of its mate?" Despite her question, she relaxed again.

  The corner of his lips tipped up in a sardonic smile as he resumed his extrication. "Consider it foreplay."

  She stiffened again. “On second thought, I’ll just get myself free.”

  "You’re stuck. I’m just trying to release you so you can get out of my flat.” He softened his voice. “Maybe, since I’m pretty sure you can clock my heart rate, you tell me your real name?”

  “I—” She sighed. “It’s Imani.”

  “See, how bad was that? I’m Alexander.” She licked her lips, and his gaze narrowed on her mouth. “Fuck, you’re really going to have to stop doing that."

  She shifted on her feet. "I’m nervous. It’s not like I'm doing it on purpose."

  Xander shook his head and peered around her at the hook. There was no way to get her off the damn thing without pressing into her. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

  He sucked in a deep breath and with it the scent of her. He could feel his pulse beating a tattoo under his skin. The closer he stood to her, the choppier his breathing became. Want. He needed to unhook her and get the hell away from her. His cock, however, disagreed. Vehemently. Need. He reached around her and tried to gently pry the fabric off the hook and hearing a stitch tear, he stopped. The only way to get her off was to lift her. Her body pressed flush up against his. On no planet was that a good idea.

  Xander clenched his jaw hard as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her smoothly off her feet. Her body molded against his like a spray on tan. Want. Need. He managed to unhook her and set her feet back on the ground, but not before sliding her all the way down his body. Every curve of hers pressed against him and he wanted to do a lot more to her tits than just fuck them. Like lick, suckle, and tease until her eyes rolled back into her head with pleasure. He needed to step away from her. The last thing he needed was a complication. But every command his brain gave went unheeded.

  "You're a little close, aren’t you?" Her voice was soft.

  Another soft chuckle escaped his lips. "I'm not sure you understand how this is supposed to go."

  She swallowed hard. "Oh, I understand the mechanics, but…” She paused, not sure how to put it. "You said that you didn't want to…uh…talk."

  He reached out and smoothed a lock of hair between his fingers. "I think I changed my mind. I do want to talk. But there's something about you that makes me want to touch too."

  "You should realize that touching a woman's hair is a really personal thing."

  "So is standing in a man's flat, wearing a dress made for sin, fuck-me heels and a smile."

  "To be fair, I wasn’t smiling.” She rocked from foot to foot. “You're still standing too close."

  He laughed low. "And you still don't seem to know how this works."

  His skin tingled just from her proximity and need pulled low in his belly. "Imani?"

  Gaze heavy-lidded, she mumbled, "Hmmm?"

  "I'm going to kiss you now."

  Five

  Xander’s hands shook as the blood rushed in his ears. What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing? The voice in his skull called louder and louder until he couldn't concentrate.

  A wave of lust washed through him. The force of it strong enough to make his hands shake. Fuck, he wanted her. So damn bad. What was so special about this girl?

  Oh, he'd wanted women before. Lots of women. But this was different. It wasn’t just her body. She made him laugh. Her sharp tongue turned him on almost as much as her insane body did. If this girl so much as breathed on him, he could lose control. And instead of running, he was threatening to kiss the source of danger?

  With lips slightly parted, Imani blinked wide eyes up at him. He couldn’t be sure, but she looked like she was holding her breath. Was she scared? Just as confused as he was?

  When he inched closer, she let out a little puff of air and he couldn't hold back the groan. Sliding his hands into her hair and fisting the strands at the nape, he dragged her to him and slid his lips over hers.

  God, she tasted sweet…with just a hint of bite. She was perfect. Cupping the back of her neck allowed his tongue to slide into her warm depths and explore. Blood rushed in his ears, driving him to take more. So much more. He needed to get closer, needed to feel her respond.

  The change in her was like ice slowly melting. When she finally kissed him back, sliding her tongue over his, he moaned. Desire rode the back of debilitating need as he licked into her mouth, desperate to consume her.

  When she gasped, he took full advantage, pressing closer against her, relishing in every lush curve against his body. Tiny pinpricks of pain alerted him that she was grabbing onto his biceps, but he didn't care. It didn’t matter how much he took, the hunger didn’t sate. His body vibrated and the base of his spine tingled with a pleasant hum. All the while his cock begged to be released, to be stroked, touched.

  Finally, Imani made a little mewling sound at the back of her throat and she slid her arms around his neck. Fuck, yes. He drew her closer, his erection pressing against her belly. When her tongue slid over his, tentatively tasting, he growled low in his throat and his hand fisted tighter.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the tightening of his balls. What the fuck? He wanted to come? She was so soft and tasted like velvety ice-cream on a hot summer day, going down smooth and refreshing, making him want more.

  Xander dragged his lips from hers, but her fingers wound into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer. The only brain cells he had left were the two rubbing together, but he had to ask. If she said yes, he'd let her go, even if it killed him. "Do you want me to stop?"

  Imani’s tongue moistened her lower lip and she dragged heavy lids open to meet his gaze. She waited several moments before answering, then, slowly, she shook her head from side to side.

  "Thank fuck." Xander dipped his head again and nibbled at her lips until she parted them on a sigh and her tongue slid over his easily. Her body molded even more tightly to his as she stood on tiptoes in an effort to bring them closer.

  Control, he needed to find some goddamned control. All he had to do was relax a little.
Don’t rush. But fuck, he wanted to rush. She was rubbing her body against his, writhing in his arms, and he wanted to do lots of other things to elicit that reaction.

  Imani arched her back and the last tenuous hold he had on his control evaporated.

  Picking her up easily, he blindly marched them into the bedroom and deposited her in the middle of the bed without breaking the kiss. Well aware of how much smaller she was, he was careful not to lay his whole weight over her. Instead, he shifted them to their sides and settled her against him fully. With a rough groan, he hiked up a handful of her dress, exposing her flesh to his hands.

  “Fuuuuck.” She felt so good. The command his brain gave to slow down was at direct war with his body’s Yes, right there murmurs. The tingling in his spine spread quickly and the thundering roar of his heartbeat drowned out any other sound but her moans, mewls and little gasps.

  Frustration riding him, he shifted their bodies again so he could yank his shirt over his head before settling himself back against her. His cock aligned against the hot center of her body and he bit back a moan when Imani lifted her hips into his.

  Xander dropped his forehead to hers, breaking the kiss. He gnashed his teeth together while he tried to quiet the tornado of emotions. With a feather-soft touch, she cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. There was something so tender, unguarded and vulnerable about her in that moment and he was lost. Her soft touch was enough to force honesty out of him. "What are you doing to me? I am so desperate to be inside of you right now." He wanted this. For more than just tonight. This was what it was supposed to feel like. He knew because he’d been missing it in warm, but emotionally empty, beds for years.

  Her fingers drifted down his face, over his collarbone. From the ring he wore on a chain around his neck to his pecs. His whispered, “Fuck,” as she grazed his nipple. It made her smile. Sliding lower, she traced each of his abs as if counting them. But it wasn’t until she traced her fingers over his happy trail that he started to shake. Shit, he had to get himself under control. But it was like they were in a cocoon of fog where only this moment in time mattered.

  He released her and in record time shed his belt, leaving his pants hanging low on his hips. When was the last time he’d felt like this? Actually wanted someone just because it felt good? He didn’t want to rush this. He didn’t want to lose the way this felt. Didn’t want it to evaporate.

  When he slid back into bed, he gripped her hips reflexively as he kissed her again, rolling his hips into hers. The only sounds permeating the room were their gasps and groans as he devoured her with his mouth. From the way his skin hummed everywhere she touched him, he knew sliding into her would be heaven. He knew they would be combustible. Knew that she would own him. Because a small part of her did already.

  Imani arched into his body with a satisfied groan when he captured her breast in his palm, filling his hand and then some. He teased the peak with his thumb, moaning in satisfaction when it pebbled under his thumb. He wanted her crazy for him, desperate for release, desperate for connection. He wanted her to feel what he felt.

  “Fuck, this has to go.” With an impatient yank, he dragged her dress up. Imani fumbled with the straps and he stilled her hands. “Let me.” Her hands shook as they fell away and her gaze never left his. Deftly, he unsnapped the hooks holding the dress together on her slim shoulders and tugged it up over her head.

  She lay back and his eyes devoured every inch of her from her firm, toned legs to the lush curve of her hips, to her flat stomach with the hint of a six-pack. But his focus strayed to her full breasts and dark nipples peeking at him behind delicate lace. He dipped his head, teasing the nipple by blowing a warm breath across the peak and her breath caught.

  When he grazed the tip with his teeth, Imani laced her fingers into his hair and tugged him closer, as if willing him to take her into his mouth, to suckle her. It wasn't until he wrapped his lips around the nipple that she rocked her heated core along his cock, stroking him with the satin and lace of her panties. Teasing him with the promised heat and slickness of her pussy.

  His hands coasted up her silky smooth thigh to the elastic of the flimsy material. Shifting the fabric aside, he stroked his fingers over her slippery folds. As soon as his questing fingers tentatively dipped inside her, she raked her fingers over his scalp and a harsh cry tore from her throat.

  Xander retracted his finger then stroked her again, sliding his finger further. With each glide, he took more of her. Eventually adding another finger as his palm rubbed over her clit. He wanted her as his. Wanted to know that he'd made her come. "That's it, Angel, come for me, don’t hold back. I want to see it. I need your pussy milking my fingers—your slickness coating them. Show me what you’ll do to my cock when I fuck you.”

  She dragged her eyes open and blinked up at him, their gazes locking as her back bowed. She was coming—and she was fucking incredible. As if timed perfectly to hers, his body fought against the restraint he tried to apply.

  Fuck. Oh God. Blinding light danced on the edges of his vision. As quivers wracked her body and her pussy pulsed around his fingers like they were his cock, he felt pleasure with the force of a tsunami chasing up his spine. No. No, no, no.

  Not now, not like this. He wanted to be inside her.

  Fuck it. He'd never had a moment like this in his life, he wasn’t going to try to stop it. Not that he could.

  Even though he tried to will it from happening, he came—hard. And all he could do was hold her against him, tight, for support as his whole body shook. The only sound that registered with him was the sound of his name on Imani’s tongue.

  Six

  Pulsing, throbbing heat between her thighs woke Imani out of a dead-sleep stupor. Dragging her eyelids over sand-sleep eyes, she frowned. Her body hummed with electricity. Her skin felt alive and between her thighs, she throbbed...needing...something.

  Oh fuck. Her eyelids snapped open but she lay perfectly still. What the hell had she done? Dry-humped Mr. No-Dirty-Talk. Oh God. And what was worse, dry humping him and letting him get her off was far hotter than anything she’d ever experienced in her life…by miles. No, actually, what was worse was he thought she was an escort. Fantastic.

  She had to get out of here, had to get home. Her mind raced as images of the night before came back to her, one by one. What she wore, how she acted, the way Xander had looked at her. The way he’d sucked on her nipples, touched her, demanding that she come.

  She tried to sit up, but a steel vise held her in place against a heated brick wall.

  No, not a wall. Xander’s chest. Holy fuck, his body was unreal. Last night she’d been so distracted by the sensations in her body, she hadn't taken the time to properly admire his.

  "Morning," he whispered.

  She froze. For the first time in her life, she had no idea what to say. She had absolutely no words for the situation. She cleared her throat. If she stayed calm, she could get up and go. "Uh, hi."

  "You’re about to run from me, aren’t you?" His chest rumbled against her back.

  Hell yes. "No. Uh, of course not. I just wanted a drink. I'm thirsty."

  His chuckle was low and raspy. "You're a terrible liar. I know an escape when I see one."

  She tried to wiggle free, but he held her still. "Can you let me go please?"

  His lips grazed her nape before he spoke. "Relax, I'm going to let you up. Just…give me a minute."

  He held her tighter and she resisted the urge to melt into him. This was the harsh light of day, not the cover of night in romantic lighting. Last night she’d been caught up in him. The way he smelled, the way he moved. How he touched her. And all that tension she’d been carrying around dissipated. It had felt great to forget—for a night. To pretend she wasn't herself. And if she was honest, he made her want things. Things she hadn't thought about since she’d had her heart and her trust shattered.

  If she was being honest, she knew she’d never get out of his grip until he was ready to let her go.
When she relaxed marginally, he asked, "What perfume are you wearing? It's been driving me mad. I’m not entirely sure if it’s your shampoo or your perfume."

  “It's called ‘Don’t get me wrong, baby, but I don’t swallow.’"

  There was a beat of silence, then another, and his cock twitched against her ass. When he spoke, his voice was so low she barely heard the words. "Tell me, Angel, do you swallow?"

  “What’s the point of going down on someone if you don’t swallow?” A hot flush crept over her skin. Oh God, she needed a muzzle. She needed to watch her dirty mind around him. Actually, no, she didn't, because the second she was out of here, she was never going to see him again. She was not going to have this conversation. Not half naked and locked in his embrace. "I thought you were going to let me go?"

  He loosened his grip on her slightly. "I am. I-uh…need to clean up. I would have done it…" His voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. "I would have, you know, after, but I was afraid you'd vanish on me if I took a shower. And I thought maybe we should…talk."

  He was certainly astute, because that had been her plan, if she hadn’t passed the hell out. Last night was the most she’d relaxed in God only knew how long. “Oh." She rolled into his arms to face him and she was struck by the sheer beauty of his features. She’d had one long-term boyfriend in her life and a couple of drunken pub hookups. But none of them had the same gravitational pull on her that he did. He looked like he was carved by the masters and those silvery eyes were both arresting and haunting. Not to mention, he certainly knew his way around a woman’s body. This guy didn't have erectile dysfunction and he clearly wasn’t gay. There was no way a guy like him needed an escort. So what was he doing setting appointments with Miriam? Not your biz.

  His gaze lingered on her mouth and she sucked in her bottom lip. That was the intensity that had landed her in his bed in the first place. Stay. No. Fuck no. She would not be staying. To become some clichéd i song? She didn’t have to see him ever again. She could just forget that she’d lost her damn mind temporarily.