Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights)(16)

James knew before looking at the clock what it would say. His body had been performing the countdown all on its own. 12:00. A flame, edged with blue, lit beneath the furnace of his body, bringing his blood to a rollicking boil. Jesus Christ, he’d forgotten the drugging rush of power that overflowed when he allowed the dam to give way. If a significant part of him felt like the big bad wolf towering over Goldilocks, his cock rigid in his jeans with the need to defile, so be it. He’d tried, he’d f*cking tried, to leave Lita in peace and she’d shown up, levering green eyes on him, needing him to tend her injuries. Kissing him. Showering for him. Eating for him. Ruining even the tiniest amount of progress.

He couldn’t lose himself to the clawing urge, though. Had to remember the last time he’d lost control, how he’d felt afterward. Keep your head.

The sound of him lowering his zipper woke Lita. Until she sat up, looking around the room in alarm, James didn’t realize the darkness hid him from her eyes. But that realization shot his pulse into overdrive. He held his breath as she eased off the bed and tiptoed toward the bathroom. “James?”

Protector. Corrupter. Which one was he? Reassuring words climbed up his throat, while the note of fear called to his animal nature. And he couldn’t hold it back anymore. It shouted at him to pounce.

James moved through the darkness, capturing Lita around the waist and spinning her toward a desk situated along the wall. Her muffled scream shattered the room’s silence as James pushed her forward, over the surface, using a firm hand to press her cheek down onto the wood. The roar inside him increased in volume when the sexy lines of her body remained taut, full of fight.

“James,” she said into the darkness.

“I could very easily be someone else, though. Couldn’t I?” Keeping one staying hand at the back of her head, James palmed her upturned bottom. Roughly. Christ, she would be so satisfying to f*ck from behind, her little cheeks sliding up his sweaty stomach, just enough space between her thighs to accept the hanging flesh that would swing up and slap her with every drive. She had no clue how many times he’d pictured it, pictured her smart mouth in a round O when she realized he wouldn’t be slowing down or easing her in. The way a good man might.

“I-I don’t know,” Lita whispered and it took James a second to realize she was giving a hesitant answer to his question.

I could very easily be someone else, couldn’t I?

His cock swelled through the partial opening he’d created by lowering his zipper, the metal teeth digging into heavy, hungry flesh. Using his forearm to keep Lita stationary, he reached into his pants and freed himself, dropping its weight onto her waiting bottom. She gasped, sending more blood rushing south, thickening him to the point of near agony. God knew he didn’t need anything else but the sight of Lita bent over to achieve misery, though. Her palms were flat on the desk, as though grounding herself might keep her calm, when her rapidly rising and falling back told him it wasn’t working.

James dragged his erection down the center of her backside, pushing against the separation of her cheeks with a grunt. “It’s not smart for such a sweet, young girl to be out after dark by herself, is it? Not so much as a pair of panties to cover you.” He rammed his hips forward, his eyes closing over the friction of their flesh, her shaky whimper. “If you cover only one thing late at night, it should be your *, little girl. There are hungry men walking the streets, praying someone like you will get brave and venture out, against their daddy’s rules.”

Lita sucked in a gulp of air, smooth thighs shifting against his hair-covered ones. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

His rumbling laughter was unrecognizable to his own ears. “You’re nowhere near sorry yet. And I think you know that.” James lifted the back of her shirt, licking up the spine he uncovered, his tongue greedy for sustenance. When he reached her nape, he pushed his mouth against the wispy strands of hair, inhaling. “I wonder if I slip a finger into your *, would you try to get away from me or just wiggle that pretty ass closer?” He rolled his hips, the head of his cock rubbing against her wet front seam. “Answer me. Are you really the good girl you pretend to be?”

“Yes. I…try to be,” she breathed.

Somehow she’d given James the answer he’d needed, when even he hadn’t known what it was. His heart jackhammered, loosing his staunchest inhibitions until they were sprinting past undiscovered roadblocks. They were two strangers encountering each other on a deserted street, the darkness giving them an excuse to buck society’s dictates and strip down to their basest existence. A tempted male and a coy, breathless female.

Taking another irresistible opportunity to stroke her backside and give it a reproving slap, James let his fingers continue further, testing the damp, addictive heat waiting for him. “Jesus, you’re wet all over. Not even fit to be in public, let alone bare-assed in a tight skirt. No bra, either, to keep you decent.” With a rough middle finger, he petted her clit. “Know what I think? I think you didn’t wear a bra because you want your tits to shake when you walk past a man. Yeah. You were out looking for something. Weren’t you?”

She tried to close her thighs around his hand, but he only pushed her stance wider with a foot. “No, I wasn’t.” A pregnant pause. “Let me go.”

On a labored exhale, James’s head fell forward into the crook of her neck. Conflict raged within him, two sides of a tarnished coin. And that was before she tried to get free. Lita’s body jerked, hands reaching behind to shove his body away. The animal she’d uncaged—or maybe they’d done it together—demanded he pin her back down and sink his cock into all that welcoming wetness. Hold her still while he banished the wealth of lust. But he wasn’t so far gone that he’d lost sight of Lita. God, he couldn’t hurt her again. Not in this lifetime. Even though he couldn’t see her face, he could visualize it and could remember how it made his heart pound.