Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths, #4)(80)

“I leave you alone for two minutes . . .” I hear Reese’s voice—laced with annoyance—coming from my left and I quickly maneuver out of Mercy’s grasp to wrap both arms around Reese’s body in a close-fitting hug.

“Please don’t leave me again,” I whisper into her ear. “I’m defenseless against her.”

“Jackass,” she mutters, glaring up at me. I can’t tell, but I think she may be genuinely mad at me. There’s definitely a spark of anger in those gorgeous eyes.

So I drop a lightning-fast kiss on her lips and beg, “Save me from her silicone.”

She cocks her head to the side, her gaze dipping down to my mouth. “You know you’re a pig, right?” The bite is gone from her tone, though. In fact, I feel her leaning farther into me.

“Yeah, but I’m your pig tonight.”





“You weren’t lying.”

I smile. “Mama bought me two sets.”

“I didn’t think they even made them for a bed this big,” she murmurs, her finger tracing over a grinning Buzz Lightyear. Her gaze roams my room—the plain blackout curtains, a couple of empty beer bottles lining the dresser, and a wall of half-naked football cheerleaders, each poster signed and personalized to me.

“It’s exactly as I pictured it.” She steps over to read one of the messages and then shakes her head. “So, when do you plan on growing up?”

“Never. Just call me Peter Pan.” I don’t even notice the posters anymore. They’re like wallpaper. I figured I’d toss them when I move, whenever that is. I’ve actually started scanning the newspapers for a one-bedroom apartment, but the very idea of living alone isn’t appealing. That’s the thing I like about living in a house with five guys—there’s always someone around, always people coming and going. Just like growing up with my brothers and Elsie.

I thrive on that kind of chaos.

She glances coyly over her shoulder at me before her attention drifts to another poster—a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader who I met at a tailgate party and who developed a little crush on me. “So these are all fairies? Where are their wings?”

“Removable,” I offer, taking slow steps toward her, her bare shoulders and smooth skin begging to be touched. After the slew of almosts, I can’t believe I finally have Reese in my bedroom. I’ve never worked this hard to get laid in my entire life.

“As are their panties, I’m sure you discovered quickly,” I hear her mutter under her breath, her eyes still searching the wall, her jaw working against itself.

“How about you focus less on these women and more on the soon-to-be-naked guy standing behind you. If that really is your thing . . . I’m still wondering.”

I grunt as her sharp elbow flies back to jab my stomach, but it doesn’t dissuade me from shifting her hair off to one shoulder, giving my mouth access to her slender neck.

“You know, you’re a lot different than I thought,” she purrs, her body falling back into my chest, her head tilting up to give me a full view down the top of her dress.

I can’t help myself from grabbing her hips and jerking that full ass of hers into me, to let her feel how bad I want her. She rocks her hips against me in response; such a simple move and yet it’s driving me wild.

“How so?” I’ve been eyeing her dress for access points all night, so I know that the zipper runs along her rib cage instead of her back. Slipping my fingers up under her arm, I locate the slider and tug it gently. The tautness in the top of the dress immediately gives, the material folding over itself and falling to uncover a matching red lace bra. Another quick move by my fingers and I have that dropping to the floor.

“I don’t know. You just . . .” Her words fade in a heavy sigh as I reach up to fill my hands with her tits, trying hard not to squeeze them too tight. I don’t know what it is about the way she sighs, but it makes my ability to restrain myself vanish.

I slide my hands down her waist, my fingers working their way under the dress and panties until I’m able to push them into a heap on the floor and she’s stepping out of them without my request. Kicking them out of the way, I grab her waist and spin her around to face me. “Good, different?” I ask with a playful smirk as I press her up against the wall and force her legs apart, enough to make room for me as I fit my body between them.

I won’t lie. I’ve been in this exact position with women many times before. But being here now, with Reese, somehow feels new.

Her breath hitches, her arms moving to wrap around my neck and yank me down to meet her mouth, slipping her tongue in and out before I can even catch it. “Yes,” she moans, and I’m not sure if that’s a yes to my question or to what’s coming. Her clawing fingers at my back, my shirt bunching up within her hands, reminds me that I’m still fully dressed. Something I completely forgot about, distracted by the taste and softness of this tumultuous, vindictive woman’s lips.

My wild horse.

“Why is it I always end up naked before you?” I feel her cool hands retreat down to the hem of my shirt and slip under to drag it up. I break away long enough to yank it over my head and toe off my shoes, then I dive back against her.

Two hands pushing against my chest stop me.

Biting her bottom lip in a way that makes me want to shove her hands away so I can bite it for her, I heave a sigh. Her fingers assess the ridges of my chest, trailing down to my stomach.