Jock Row (Jock Hard #1)(50)

“I…” he begins. Swallows. “I would spend it watching you walk around naked.”

“You think I walk around naked an entire day? My, my, what wishful thinking.”

Nevertheless, I kiss the space next to his eye, where it’s tender, kiss his laugh lines.

His eyes widen when my hands cradle his face, fingers flexing behind his head.

Rowdy is so damn adorable; I want to eat him up. So huge, my five-foot five-inch frame feels so petite in his lap. With my front row seat, my fingers brush his jawline, stroking upward over the unshaven bristles. Over his pouty bottom lip.

“Do it, Scarlett.” His fingers squeeze my waist to prompt me along, begging me to kiss him on the mouth. “Fucking do it already.”

“Stop being so bossy. I’ll get to it.”

Never would I ever have thought I’d be doing this with him, not in a million years…

“You can take your hands down now,” I inform him magnanimously, orienting myself so I can rub my breasts along his chest.

The first brush of my mouth against his is brief, sweeping. Soft.

Electric.

Zap.

Sizzle.

Startled, I pull back. “Did you feel that?”

A short nod. “Yes.”

He licks his gorgeous lips, lips still parted expectantly.

“Do it again.”

His hands grip my backside, fanned out on my spine.

When our mouths finally fuse, I lose myself in him a bit. One small piece of my soul becomes Sterling Wade’s, whether he wants it or not.

Up my back, one of his hands roams. Up my spine, strong and splayed. Up the column of my neck, fingers spread, plunging through my hair as his tongue plunges into my mouth, meeting mine.

The other is firmly planted on my ass.

This kiss is…

Shock and shiver and memorable. Insanity. Divine torment.

I cannot get my tongue far enough down his throat, body electrically charged, intensely aware of the throbbing member between my legs.

I will not grind on his cock, I will not grind on his cock, I will not…

Too late. My hips roll of their own accord; they can’t help themselves, wanting him as much as I do. His thick shaft is nestled snuggly between my legs, begging for attention the way Rowdy was begging for my kisses.

Greedy. Needy.

Hot and sexy, our tongues and lips are wet, dipping into each other as if it’s the only time we’ll have the chance.

It’s madness.

I want to tear his clothes off and bang him on my living room floor.

Weeks of mutual, pent-up sexual tension have me reaching for the hem of his shirt and sliding my hands underneath. Aching and desperate to feel the weight of his skin, my fingertips glide over Rowdy’s textbook washboard abs.

They were carved out of marble.

Jesus, he’s so ripped and cut in all the right places I don’t know what to touch or stroke first.

Greedy. Selfish.

My hands find the light smattering of chest hair on his pecs. I sweep over it with the pads of my fingers; my selfish palms slither over the solid, brawny muscles of his clavicle. Brush over his hard nipples with the pads of my thumb. Rest on his ribcage, caressing there, too.

“Don’t,” he warns into my mouth. “I’m ticklish.”

I’m such an asshole. I tickle near his arm pit.

“How ticklish?” I murmur, daring to torment him.

“Ticklish enough that I’m three seconds from picking you up and tossing you to the floor.”

My breath quickens. Picking me up and tossing me to the floor? How exciting.

“Is that so?”

I wiggle my finger under his pit, taunting the caged tiger, practically daring him to haul me up and do whatever nefarious things he’s going to do to me on the ground in the middle of the room.

Do it.

Do it, I dare him.

My heart accelerates at the thought; I’ve never made out with anyone so totally male before, making all the guys before him nothing but boys.

Rowdy could lift me in one motion as if I weighed nothing, and I want to see him do it, desperately.

“Are you testing my patience on purpose, Scarlett?”

I nod. “How strong your self-control?”

“Right now? Shitty.”

“Good.” I tip my chin, giving him access to nuzzle it. Lick it if he wants.

“You want me to toss you on the floor?”

Another nod and my lips part. “Yes.”

“How bout I do you one fuckin better?”

Fuckin’ do me better.

Sterling’s mammoth palms firmly grope my hamstrings before his arms brace and he stands, hoisting me up. Lifts me, as if I’m weightless, and I wrap my legs around his waist.

God he’s sexy, lips and teeth still lapping me up. Mouth on my neck, sucking at my collarbone.

Instead of laying me on the floor as he threatened, he takes three long strides, stalking across the carpeted floor, pressing my back flat against the living room wall.

Bracing me between him and the kitchen.

His erection digs into the apex of my thighs through his pants, and with slow controlled movements, Sterling hovers me over his cock, working me up and down over his jeans until we’re dry humping against the wall. Kissing. Making out like teenagers, devouring each other.

Rowdy squeezes my ass every so often, our tongues mating. Fucking, really.