Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1)(96)

He pulled back at one point, panting into the top of my head. I turned, scraping my tongue across his stubble roughened jaw, begging for his mouth again.

He gave it to me, and we kissed like that for the longest time. We ignored all the calls from our friends of ‘get a room’, lost in our own little world of drugging kisses, and in my case, mad crazy love.

“You’re so perfect,” I murmured to him as we came up for air. “I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

His laugh was rough and breathless. “I’m as far from perfect as a person can get, but I am all yours.”

That warmed me down to my toes, as did the press of his lips on mine. He eased back from all out necking, and began to give me sweet, short kisses.

I tried to press my body to his, but he backed away.

“I can kiss you all night, sweetheart, but if we start dry humping in this bar, I’m liable to embarrass myself.”

“I want you,” I whispered, as his lips came back to claim mine. “I want you deep inside of me. For hours. I told Frankie how huge you are, how you stretch me you’re so big, but I didn’t tell her how perfect it feels to have you inside of me.”

He pulled back, gasping out a laugh, his eyes finding Frankie. “You got an earful, huh?”

Frankie grinned, toasting the air. “Drunk confessions are the best. Tequila is like a truth serum, and she can’t take any of it back.”

“We could f**k in the bathroom, like we did in the casino that one time,” I said into his ear, seriously hot for him now, so hot I didn’t know how I could bear to wait until we got home.

He shook his head, smiling. “Not at this place, we can’t. It’s not four a.m. and deserted, like the casino was.

“Let’s have sex in your car then,” I suggested, trying to pull him flush against me.

He studied me, biting his lip. I tried to tug his head down to me, because I wanted to bite his lip, too, but he wouldn’t budge. “That’s a hard offer to turn down. It won’t be comfortable, not that I give a damn about that.”

I shook my head at him, my eyes wide. “I don’t give a damn either. I need your c**k buried in my pu**y like ten minutes ago.”

That has his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. “Aren’t you in a mood tonight? Normally I can’t pry the word pu**y out of you.”

“I do hate that word, but it’s not bugging me so much tonight. *, pu**y, pu**y.”

“I love that word,” Frankie mused, shamelessly listening to our conversation. “I love any word that gets a visceral reaction, every time you use it out loud. *. Cunt. Fuck. Cock. Though it should be noted that the word c**k is my least favorite of all of those.”

Tristan turned his head to look at her, smirking. “How come that doesn’t shock me?”

She snickered. “Here’s all I’m saying, everything about a woman can be pretty, from her feet to her ears, but the same can’t be said for a man.”

Tristan threw his head back and laughed, his hands rubbing my hips. I loved his throat. The sight of it stretched like that drove me wild. I pushed up so I could lick it, and then suck hard enough to leave a mark.

“I can’t argue with you there,” Tristan told Frankie. “I’m right there with you; team pu**y all the way.”

I smacked his arm. “That sounds way too general for my taste.”

He laughed harder, pulling my face into his chest. “Okay. I’m team Danika’s pu**y all the way. That better?”

I nodded, appeased at the conclusion to that ridiculous conversation.

“Go ahead, go screw in your car,” Frankie told us, her tone wry. “Don’t delay on my account. You’ve been making out in front of me for hours. Why get shy now?”

“Good point,” Tristan said, taking her suggestion, and ignoring her sarcasm. “Excuse us. We’ll be back in ten to fifteen minutes.”

Frankie’s grin turned rueful. “I wouldn’t go advertising that. It’s not exactly an endorsement.”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” was his parting shot as he tugged me out of my chair.

I felt giddy as we raced to his car, clutching hands and laughing.

“We’re going to get ourselves arrested,” Tristan muttered as he opened the back door of his car for me.

I just laughed harder, strangely uncaring of that possibility.

He crowded me into the car, and it was a tight fit, to put it lightly.

“Are you wet?” he asked, as he positioned me on my hands and knees, facing away from him. He began to peel my tiny jean shorts off.

“I’ve been wet since the moment you touched me.”

“Good,” he grunted, folding himself over my back, lining himself up at my entrance. “Tell me if I’m too rough. I need to f**k you hard after all of that making out.”

I moaned loudly as he worked himself into me, his breath hot on my neck, coming out in fast pants as he invaded me.

“I need you, Danika. I’ve never needed anything like I need this.” Each word was drawn out and punctuated with a rough stroke. “I’ll never get enough of you. Never.”

It wasn’t his usual dirty talk, and his words fed so much more than my desire. I needed to hear these things, craved every little sign that he might be anywhere near as obsessed with me as I was with him.