Tomboy (The Hartigans #3)(38)

It only took about thirty seconds for her jeans and T-shirt to end up in the same pile as Zach’s clothes in the middle of the foyer. She made it about three steps toward the bedroom before the asshole little voice in her head started outlining all of the things about her body that she wasn’t such a fan of—hello mosquito-bite boobs—and reminding her of the physical perfection of the women he usually brought home—the puck bunnies with their perfect hair, practically professional-level makeup, and banging bods. She’d eyeballed and objectified the hell out of Zach when he got naked; she’d be an idiot to think that he wouldn’t be analyzing her body, too. Fucking A. Why couldn’t they have just fucked against the wall before her frenemy brain had a chance to catch up?

By the time she was a single step from the door, Fallon had her arms wrapped around her soft, vulnerable middle. There was naked and then there was naked, and she was definitely feeling the latter.

A low whistle of admiration tugged her attention away from herself. Zach stood in the doorway, his hand wrapped around his thick, hard cock and a look of 100 percent lust on his face. The hater in her head shut the fuck up at the sight.

“I might need a nurse,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. “Don’t suppose you know of one?”

It so was not the first time she’d ever been asked to play doctor (and usually, she just rolled her eyes), but she’d never been asked by Zach before.

She took a step into his room. “That depends. Where does it ache?”

…

“Anywhere that I’m not touching you.” And it was past time to end that if either of them was going to make it through the night without spontaneously combusting.

He traced his thumb across the straight line of her collarbone to the place in the middle where it dipped into a U, then he spread his palm wide and glided it over the slight rise of her right breast, cupping it and rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. As Fallon let out a quiet moan, he increased the pressure, tugging the small pink point.

“Fuck, Fallon, you have the prettiest tits.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she said with just enough defensiveness under her usual sarcasm to make the dial on his oh-shit meter come to life.

“Don’t see anyone else here, so why are you letting them in?” he asked before dipping his head down and swirling his tongue around her nipple, hoping to distract her thoughts from going in that direction.

“So you’re not thinking about the guys I’ve fucked before you?”

He whipped his head up. “Well shit, now I am.”

She gave him a sexy little grin. “Oops.”

The woman loved to talk smack no matter the circumstances, it seemed—and she was going to pay for that in the best way possible. He slid his fingers through the tight curls between her thighs. Fuck, she was soft and wet for him.

“You did that on purpose,” he said, his voice barely above a strained, growly whisper.

She let out a shaky breath as he circled her clit. “Figured you were the kind of guy who performed better when it was a competition.”

“To be the best fuck you’ve ever had?” He increased the pressure and pace of his touch, following her body’s movements and her little moans to know when to slow down and speed up. “Oh, Fallon, I’ve already won that, and you know it.”

She reached out, holding on to him by the shoulders as she let her eyes fall shut. “How’s that?”

“Because you’re about to come, and I’m barely touching you.”

Biting down on her bottom lip, she let out a mewl of pleasure that was all the encouragement he needed. “You wish.”

“Really?” He pressed his thumb to her clit and held it there while he drew slow circles around her wet opening.

Her breath caught, and her body tightened, her thighs becoming rock hard as the muscles in her ass clenched under his palm. She was close, so fucking close, and all he wanted in the entire world right then was to see her go over the edge.

“You’re gonna come on my hand, and then I’m going to bury my dick in you while I lick the sweet taste of you from my fingertips.”

She tightened her grip on his shoulders and tilted her hips, her body demanding a release he couldn’t wait to see her take. Her short nails dug into his skin a half second before her orgasm hit. He’d have ten perfectly shaped crescents marking his shoulders that the guys on the team would be giving him crap about in the locker room, but it was more than worth it.

“Don’t say a word.” She gave him a teasing pout. “Not a single word.”

He opened his mouth, but she covered it with her hand.

“Your mouth already made its promises. Now, I want to see you carry them through.”

Encircling her wrist, he slid her hand down his chest. “I always keep my word.”

Whatever else he would have said died in a hiss of breath when she slipped her hand from his grasp and wrapped her fingers around his hard cock. Squeezing just the right amount, she stroked up and down as she raised herself up on her tiptoes and kissed the base of his neck. Hand busy, she made her way up his throat with little licks and kisses that had his brain about to short-circuit from sensory overload. Then she glided her free hand up his chest, her touch setting off a million little shocks of pleasure before she brushed against the bar piercing his nipple and a jolt of hot, hungry need shot straight to his dick.