Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1)(57)

I saw the harm. He was leaving soon. I felt a sense of urgency just thinking about it. If I was going to lose him, I wanted him to remember me.

I put a hand on his thigh, and saw the air clear out of his lungs with one harsh breath. I loved that one touch from me could do that to him.

I moved to my knees on the couch, leaning toward him.

His eyes were wary on me as I moved to straddle him, pushing my chest into his. I brought my face close, settling my weight against him. I circled my hips in a teasing move that made him groan.

He kept his arms behind his head, his jaw clenched hard. “You should know that I’m too weak to resist you right now, so tread carefully, boo.”

“Who said I wanted you to resist?” I taunted, moving my lips to his throat. He smelled so good that I inhaled deeply before taking my mouth to the pulse in his neck.

“I want you so badly that I’d do just about anything to have you,” he said roughly. “The only thing I won’t do, though, is risk losing you. Can you promise me that if we do this, I won’t lose you?”

I didn’t hesitate, didn’t think over the question as I should have. I wanted him, and I wanted him now. “I promise.”

We kissed, a rough clash of our lips. He bit my lower lip, and I just about melted.

He thrust his hips forward hard enough to move us both to the edge of the couch, his c**k digging hard into me through our clothes.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he said raggedly.

I did, using the motion to grind my sex into his erection.

His hands gripped my hips, and he stood.

I gasped. “I love how big you are,” I told him.

He flashed a dimple, bouncing me against him. “Not yet. But you will.”

I punched his shoulder. It was a weak hit from that angle. “I wasn’t talking about that. I meant that I love how you can carry me around as though I don’t weight a thing.”

“Sure you did,” he teased, striding out of the living room.

He started kissing me again as we reached my room, closing the door behind us with his back, his hands moving to my butt, but he quickly made his way to the bed.

He dropped me onto the soft mattress, shrugging out of his shirt before I’d even stopped bouncing. I never stopped being in awe, and in lust with how amazing his body was. I loved the broad set of his shoulders, the chiseled cut of his abs. Even the definition in his collarbone was a turn on for me. And those arms…

My eyes followed his hands hungrily as they went to the waistband of his athletic shorts.

He paused there, arching a sassy brow at me. “If this is a striptease, you’re going to have to reciprocate.”

“Deal,” I agreed, before he’d even finished talking.

He laughed, pushing his shorts down.

I gasped, my eyes widening when I got a good look at his jutting erection. I’d known he was big, I’d felt just how big, but just then it looked intimidating, it was so huge, nearly as thick as my wrist and arching up to his navel. I tried to reassure myself that it was just the lighting.

His mouth twisted ruefully when he saw the look on my face. “Don’t worry, we’ll fit.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t quite convinced.

He sprawled onto his back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head. “Your turn.”

I nodded again, eyes still wide on his thick length.

My hand darted out, my fingers wrapping around him before he could see my intent.

He sucked in a rough breath as I gripped him.

My fingers could just touch, which alleviated some of my tension. At least I could grip him with one hand.

I pumped at him once with my fist, and a spurt of pr**cum escaped from his tip.

He pushed my hand away, cursing. “That’s not in the plans tonight, Danika. My control is shot to hell as it is. Now, where’s my striptease?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I stood, sending him a wicked smile. I drew it out longer than he had, inching my shirt up slowly, teasingly uncovering my skin, inch by slow inch.

I tossed my shirt on the floor, cupping my br**sts as I bared them. I was encouraged by the pained look on his face as I moved closer, my steps slow and sultry.

“You did say striptease,” I explained, biting my lip as I fondled myself, my expression taunting.

“I did,” he bit out. “But you still need to keep stripping.”

I did, pushing my tiny shorts down even more slowly than I’d peeled my top up.

“I love your body,” he told me as I inched the shorts just below my hipbones. “It’s perfect. You have the sexiest little hips in the world.”

I practically glowed at the praise. No one could do compliments like Tristan. He said things that put me on cloud nine for days, and I knew I’d remember those words long after this was over.

I gave one last teasing little shimmy before I let my shorts fall to the floor.

I moved to the bed, propping one foot up near where his feet were pointing. I touched myself, circling my clit, letting him see how wet he’d made me, when things like that usually embarrassed me. The usual shame associated with sex had disappeared for me, with Tristan.

“Come closer,” he growled. “I can do that for you.”

“I want to ride you first this time,” I told him, ignoring his request.

“Fine, if that’s what you want. Just get the f**k over here.”