Objective (Bloodlines #2)(38)

“Bentley, put me the f*ck down! NOW!”

“Sorry, Princess, but I can’t do that,” he chuckles. CHUCKLES! Now I am really worked up.

“God damnit, COWBOY, put...me...” I stop because a strange gagging feeling pushes up my throat. Bentley pushes outside and flings me down off of him as I start to wretch and throw up...all over his boots.

“Great,” he mutters. I can’t help it. I start crying, and then gag again. A pair of hands sweeps my hair out of my face and holds it there as I throw up a lot more - only not on Bentley’s boots this time. When I’m finished and can assure him I am not going to vomit anymore he lifts me into the truck, buckles me and starts home.

The car ride is silent. I keep my head rested on the window and stare out it blankly, occasionally taking small sips off the water bottle he handed me. The headlights shine down the black road in front of us. There is so much I want to say to him but I don’t. He hands me a piece of gum, which I pop gratefully into my mouth. His large palm comes to the back of my neck and tugs me in his direction. I snap my gaze to him as my body stiffens.

“It’s okay, Mags.” His voice sounds wilted. Defeated somehow, but I don't understand why. His palm stays at my neck and the strangest thing happens. I lean into it. I lean into him. He pulls my head to his shoulder and I rest it there comfortably until we get to the trailer park.

He pulls in next to my car, which strikes me as odd considering he only lives two trailers away. I could easily walk. I sit up and watch as he kills the engine and hops out. Before I can decipher what’s happening my door opens and he extends his hand to me.

“What are you doing?” I laugh.

“Treating the princess like a princess,” he says. I take his hand and let him help me down from the large truck.

“Bent...” I look away from him as I start.

“Don’t,” he clips, “not tonight, Mags.” I lift my gaze to meet his and find warm blue eyes staring back at me affectionately.

“Invite me in,” he demands, voice hoarse. I feel like my eyes have officially bulged out of my head at his words but I don’t want to say no to him. Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s my finally making some form of human contact with someone. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just horny and God’s gift to the male species is standing in front of me being demanding. I move past him, not releasing his hand, and tug him behind me.

He moves in front of me to get the door. Inside the trailer the lights come on automatically as we pass the threshold. He stops just inside and I have to abruptly stop to avoid crashing into him. When he turns to face me I’m stunned at the hunger in his eyes.

“Magnolia…” My name leaves his mouth in a gravelly tone. Affected. By me. It has me aroused in a way that I’ve never quite felt before. I take a step closer to him and drop my purse on the floor.

“No talking.” My voice is raspy and filled with a level of emotion that I didn't think existed in me anymore. The instant I issue the plea he reacts as if that was all the invitation he needed. He reaches forward as I extend my arms, wrapping them around his neck. His fingers dig into my rear and lift. I twine my legs around his waist and let his mouth crash into mine. His tongue parts my lips, caressing mine in one lush stroke. I’m tingling in places I haven’t tingled in too long. A low moan slips out as he continues to gently take my breath away with his mouth. His lips are soft and warm and feel delicious. As the pads of his fingers squeeze into the flesh of my bum the kiss becomes more wild. Hotter, unleashed and passionate. He groans into my mouth as I cling to him. “Princess,” his voice sounds like rough sandpaper as he pulls back slightly from me. His erection is pressing into me and I have a strange urge to claim him. “Shhhh…” I scold and squeeze myself tighter around him. I don’t want words. I want to feel more of him.

A look of pure male satisfaction takes over his features and for a moment I’m overly aware, insecure even, that there have probably been many women before me but only one man before him. He starts walking toward the bedroom with me still clinging to him. Lights turn on as we pass all the motion sensors. One hand leaves my rear and comes to the back of my neck, under my hair, and massages the tender skin there. He stops just short of my bed and tosses me onto it. The impact doesn’t hurt, but it jars me. It takes me out of the moment slightly and I fight to get back into it.

“Shit…” He scrubs his jaw, seeming rattled, and advances on me, cupping my face in his palms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that,” his voice caresses. The tenderness and heat I find in his eyes is what pulls me back into our moment, not his words.

“Please. Shut. Up,” I reply tartly. His jaw flexes but then he laughs a sexy rough sound from deep in his chest. He is all sexy male charm.

“I just need to ah, brush my teeth...K?” I stammer and hop up. I move into the bathroom like lightning and brush as fast as humanly possible, terrified that the moment will be over by the time I get back. When I emerge from the bathroom he’s lying back on my bed staring at the monitors. SHIT. I approach the bed, slowly stripping off my clothes as I walk. Shirt, gone. Boots, kicked off. Pants...

“Stop,” he commands, and I do. He leans up onto his elbows and watches me.

“Turn around. Slowly.” I’m inclined to protest his request but the wetness between my legs says to do whatever he demands. I rotate three-sixty degrees slowly in silence. The quiet is excruciating and only punctuated by the panting breaths I’m taking. I’ve never been on display like this. When I’m facing him again he stands and stalks over to me.