Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(93)

Trap hadn’t pushed her at all to do anything, but she could tell he was pleased that she’d made the effort. She found herself liking Wyatt. He had an easy charm, enabling her to relax in his presence. Still, she liked it best when she was alone with Trap.


Trap really liked sex. All the time. She did as well, so it was nice to know she wasn’t alone in her needs. He was inventive and bossy but so was she. They worked together, and she had to admit, she was comfortable in their strange relationship. She spent most of her time trying to learn things that would make their huge house really a home. She wanted to do that for Trap. Watching various programs on the Internet helped, but even with numerous cooking shows to aid her, she had a miserable time learning to cook.


Baby, you have to stop looking like you’re going to your doom.


There was humor in Trap’s voice. Affection. Warmth. She wrapped herself in the way he felt for her, using it as armor as they approached the house. Trap took her hand and pulled her close, into his body, her front to his side, and then his arm swept around her, clamping her to him. She had no choice but to curl her fingers into his tight tee – the one that stretched valiantly across a wealth of muscle.


Do I look like that?


Yes, and it’s adorable. So much so that if you keep it up, I’m going to carry you into the swamp and do you right there, just a few feet from the house.


Her nipples went hard and she glanced speculatively at the swamp creeping close to the Fontenot compound. She felt the rush of liquid heat between her legs the way she did whenever Trap used that voice. She loved his voice.


He halted abruptly. You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? You’d let me.


She was surprised. She’d never turned him down. Not once. He’d never turned her down. Ever. Of course I would. Did you think I wouldn’t? In any case, sex with Trap was a far better option than being around people she didn’t know. In fact, maybe it was the perfect time for seduction.


I love having you inside me. I love my mouth on you, the taste of you, the feel of you. Why wouldn’t I go into the swamp with you? You could pick me up, I’ll wrap my legs around your waist and you’ll be inside me. What’s not to love about that?


His arm tightened and he dipped his face low, toward hers. Are you ready for me? Wet? Dripping my honey for me?


She nodded, watching his expression closely. Trap didn’t give much away unless it came to sex. Then pure sensuality was carved into every line of his very masculine features. His glacier eyes flamed blue and became hooded and sexy. Like now. Her heart beat harder, her mouth went dry and deep inside she felt a spasm.


Absolutely. I’m always ready for you, Trap. You look at me and I’m ready. You touch me and I practically have an orgasm. Kissing me can give me a mini-orgasm. She touched her tongue to her bottom lip, tracing over it. Moistening it. Deliberately, her gaze dropped to the bulge in his jeans. I didn’t get to wake you up this morning the way I wanted to. You woke me and had your fun.


He’d taken his time with her, his mouth between her legs, holding her down, making her take whatever he wanted to give her – and he wanted to give her a lot. She squirmed remembering how good it had been. How exciting and a little scary, because when he decided to be entirely in control, she was helpless against his strength. She loved every minute of it and he always made it worth it, but still, there was that little thrill of fear that only added to the pleasure he gave her.


Trap cupped her face in his hand. Women don’t like to get messed up when they’re going out, Cayenne. Most would be embarrassed if their man wanted to take them out in the swamp and f*ck them silly and then take them into a friend’s house.


She frowned at him and then switched from the more intimate telepathy to regular speech. “I don’t understand, Trap. Why wouldn’t they want their man to give them that?” Her hand strayed from his chest, lower, smoothing over his abs, to hook in the front of his belt, her fingers barely skimming the top of his growing bulge.


“They wouldn’t want his friends to know what they were doing. And especially in a place like the swamp.”


Her frown deepened as she struggled to comprehend what he was telling her. “That doesn’t make any sense to me, Trap. It isn’t even logical. I always want you no matter where we are. What difference does it make, the location, and wouldn’t your friends already know what we do? Is it supposed to be a secret? I assume Wyatt and Pepper have sex all the time. Why would we try to hide that from anyone?”


His hand came up under her chin. “Baby, you’re making me as hard as a rock.”


“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” This time her hand slipped more, gliding over the thick length of him right over the stretched denim. “I like you hard as a rock. That means good things for me.”


He groaned. “Seriously, Cayenne. You keep that up and I’m going to be taking you into the swamp.”


“I just realized that with the differences in our heights, if you’re on just a little bit higher ground than me, I could have you in my mouth without even having to get on my knees in all that dirt. Not that I would mind, but if my jeans get all muddy, I have to do laundry, and I’ve kind of had several disasters. There are a lot of how-to videos online, but they aren’t very interesting. I keep going to the cooking channels.”