Too Hot to Handle (Romancing the Clarksons #1)(33)
She shook her head and the streetlight illuminated whatever she’d used to gloss up her mouth. Definitely not ChapStick this time around. “No, my sister is helping her friend get settled.”
Jasper braced a hand on the frame and leaned close to Rita, looking down at her body through the narrow separation between them. “Stop rubbing your thighs together,” he growled.
Those pointed tits started to heave up and down in a hypnotic movement, a mere centimeter from his chest. “I’m not. I’m just not used to wearing skirts.”
“I’m not used to you wearing skirts, either.”
“You’re not used to me wearing anything.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “You know what I mean by—”
“I know I’m thinking about you naked now.” Jasper backed Rita into the room, grimacing inwardly over the war raging between the ticker in his chest and the swelling below his belt. Had someone pressed his default setting button on the way across the parking lot? Or was he just so f*cking into this woman he couldn’t see straight? He didn’t know. Didn’t know. So he needed to slow the hell down. But it was difficult as all get out when she was wobbling her way back toward the bed like she wanted to be f*cked on it as soon as possible.
She was horny. That was the main problem here. Although, if Jasper used that defense in a court of law, a jury would send him up the river for sure. Because a truly turned-on woman was one of life’s treasures. Now, a turned-on Rita? She was the ninth wonder of the world. Her gravitational pull dragged him forward until the backs of her legs were against the mattress, until his hands were slipping up the outsides of her lithe thighs. So, yes, this was a problem. Because it went against Jasper’s nature to allow Rita to remain in such a state. Leaving her in the parking lot after their dry humping session had damn near killed him, but they wouldn’t make it through the evening if she kept looking at him like that.
“I was going to put you in my truck, start the engine, and go.” Jasper ducked his head to sip at the hollow of her neck. “You weren’t supposed to answer the door asking for it, beautiful. I can’t f*ck you before the date even starts.”
Her hands lifted, rummaging through his hair, holding him in place as he licked a path from throat to ear. “I would respect that, too, if I thought your reason made sense,” she all but gasped.
“It does make sense. You’ll see.” Frustration lanced his gut. Every instinct screamed to give Rita what she needed—what he needed—but his chest felt hollow when he envisioned what would come after. What always came after. “Where is your suitcase?”
Rita’s head lifted. “Huh?”
Giving her neck one final, open-mouthed kiss, Jasper stooped down and tugged a duffel bag from beneath the bed. Somehow he’d guessed the location of her luggage correctly, but where would she keep her—
“Are you looking for my—”
“Yeah.” His hand closed around something smaller than he’d expected, but the shape left no question about its identity. “Found it, too.”
When Jasper straightened, Rita sputtered, staring down at the object cradled in his palm. “You can’t just…present my vibrator.”
Jasper tested the weight of it. “Is this even considered a vibrator? In my experience, they’re shaped like a cock.”
“It’s a…a butterfly…massager.”
During Rita’s explanation, he watched in amazement as a flush spread across her cheeks. “Oh, beautiful. You answer your empty-motel-room door in a tiny little skirt and now you’re blushing at me? If I wasn’t already planning on masturbating you, that blush would have sealed your fate.”
She split a cautious, but curious, look between him and the vibrator. “Why?”
Jasper moved until their bodies were flush, yanking Rita up against him so he could suck her lower lip into his mouth. But just as she opened up for his tongue, Jasper nudged her backwards, forcing her down onto the bed. She went up on her elbows, surprise evident in her pretty features. Really? Surprise? It was almost like she’d never had a man desperate for—
And shit. Turns out, Jasper didn’t enjoy thinking of Rita with anyone else. In fact, he liked the idea so goddamn little that he flipped Rita onto her stomach with more aggression than he’d intended. An apology might have been forthcoming—might have been—if she hadn’t moaned into the comforter. If that red skirt hadn’t slipped so high during the flip he could see her black, shoestring thong.
“Fuck, you hot, little piece.” Jasper’s vision doubled before meshing back together. He slipped his finger beneath the string, running it up and down, through the wetness of her *. Then he pulled the thong back a couple inches and snapped it against her warm flesh, savoring her muffled scream, before lunging on top of her body, pressing her down, down into the mattress. Because of their difference in size, he was careful not to lean his full weight on her smaller frame, just enough so she wouldn’t be able to escape the pleasure he intended to inflict.
“What are you—oh!”
Jasper’s teeth closing around the lobe of Rita’s ear cut off her question, set her hips to jerking underneath him. “You buck that ass up into my lap again, I’ll think that means you want me off. And I don’t think you do.” Without looking, Jasper slid the switch along the vibrator’s side, getting a feel for the way it shuddered in his palm, groaning as he imagined Rita using it on herself. Not tonight, though. It was his orgasm to give.