Tinsel (Lark Cove #4)(31)

“There aren’t any gyms in town. Had to make my own.” He turned away from me, watching me from the mirror. “Nice shirt.”

“It’s a little big.” The sleeves hung past my fingertips and the hem hit me midthigh.

“Your clothes are in the laundry room.”

“Okay.” Was that a hint for me to go put them on? If it was, I pretended to miss it.

I went right to the bench and put a knee on the seat between Dakota’s legs. It forced his gaze away from the mirror.

He leaned back, his dark, assessing eyes holding mine. They didn’t give anything away, just like the first time I’d seen him.

Dakota had put up some guards since last night. Maybe he’d disappeared to this gym so he wouldn’t wake up next to me in his bed.

“What time do we have to be at the bar?” I ran my fingertips through the sweaty strands of his hair by his ear.

“We’re closed today.” His voice was rough and hoarse.

I hummed. “So are you in?”

“In for what?”

“A week of me.”

His eyes flashed, the wariness turning to heat. “Think that’s smart?”

“I can walk away from this as friends. Can you?”

He nodded. “Not a problem.”

“Then it’s brilliant.” I dropped my mouth onto his, playing at it with my tongue. The sweat on his top lip was salty.

Dakota’s hands dug into my hips, kneading my soft curves before slipping under the hem of his shirt. When he found nothing but bare skin, his tongue dove into my mouth.

I ran my hands down his shoulders and over his back. I towered over him on the bench, forcing him to rise up to meet me.

The skin on his fingers was coarse against the soft flesh of my ass as he palmed it, urging me closer. His spicy scent surrounded us, stronger now that it was mixed with sweat.

My hands slid down the damp plains of his back, fitting to the muscles that were just as chiseled as his abs. Then I picked my knee up and straddled him before dropping my center to his.

The mesh fabric of his shorts didn’t conceal the iron rod between us. I slipped a hand down his front, diving under the elastic waistband and gripping his silky shaft, stroking as he moaned into my mouth.

“Condom.” Dakota started to rise but I gave him all my weight, squeezing his cock harder.

“Shirt pocket,” I panted into his mouth.

The corners of his lips turned up against mine as he went for the pocket. The sound of ripping foil, racing hearts and shuddered breaths echoed through the room.

Dakota lifted up slightly, using one arm to keep me pressed against him as the other moved around in hurried motions to strip down his shorts.

I let go of his shaft, took the condom from his fingers and rolled it onto his hardness. When it was in place, he gripped my hips, steadying me, before lifting me up and planting me right on his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned as I gasped.

“You feel so good.” My head lolled to the side as I stretched around him. “So, so good.”

His luscious mouth latched on to my collarbone, pushing the flannel out of the way. He sucked hard as he picked me up and brought me back down onto his cock again. Hard.

That move earned him a hiss.

He did it again five times before his arms dropped to his sides and he let out a huff. “My arms are dead. Let’s shift.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

He picked me up, spun us both around and laid me down on the bench, hovering over me with his thick, long cock still rooted deep. Then he tilted up my hips, testing the angle with one long pull and deep plunge.

“Yessss.” My entire body nearly came off the bench. How he’d figured out so quickly to keep my hips up I had no idea. But it was the only way he’d fit that deep.

Last night’s escapades had made me sensitive this morning, but the little bit of pain mixed with the intense pleasure had me coiled and ready to explode.

If Dakota lived in New York, I’d be tempted to have this every single day. So it was a good thing we had a limit on this. It was a good thing that a relationship was out of the question.

It’s a good thing.

His strokes got faster, his arms holding my legs just underneath my knees. With every thrust forward, he pulled me onto him. The sound of slapping skin, his grunts and my gasps chased away the silence from the gym.

The collar of my flannel dipped over a shoulder as Dakota rocked us back and forth on the bench. With every bounce, the material fell sideways until one of my nipples worked free.

Dakota spotted it and planted himself deep. Then he bent over me, taking my nipple in between his lips and sucking it hard.

“Oh god.” My hands went right into his hair, tugging at the silky strands.

He nipped at the side of my breast, then licked my skin before standing tall again. As he withdrew from me, a wicked gleam settled into his black eyes right before he slammed home, shaking the bench and the bar behind it.

“Touch yourself,” Dakota commanded. “Come around me.”

I nodded, letting one hand drift to my exposed nipple. Then the other slipped down my stomach to my clit. I put the pad of my middle finger on the hard nub, circling just twice before the shaking in my legs set in.

“That’s it, babe. Again.”

I circled again, this time moaning through shallow breaths. My eyes squeezed closed as I rubbed my clit again, feeling the build.