Secrets & Lies (Roughshod Rollers MC 3)

Page 73

“Learning all those things about you… I want to know more,” Grant pants, nuzzling my neck, nipping and licking my skin. I groan at the wave of pleasure that rolls through me. “I want to touch your body more and find out what else I missed. What else don’t I know about you?”
I think Grant already knows everything there is to know about my body at this point. But I’m not going to say that, because then he might stop touching me and I definitely don’t want that. I want to keep feeling him. I want to drag him so close that we won’t know where I end and he begins. The very thought makes my head drop back as it spins dizzily.
“Don’t stop,” I beg him.
He clutches me close to him and I raise my head to lap at his collar bone, biting down hard on the skin, determined to leave a mark. I suck on the abused skin, and when I pull away, the skin is red and shining. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise that he will see tomorrow.
That’s a pleasing thought. I don’t know how either of us are going to react tomorrow, but it’s nice to know that some physical evidence of our activities has been left for us, that neither of us will forget what’s happening between us.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Grant mutters, tugging at my jacket.
“So are you,” I rasp.
I allow him to pull my jacket off and then I push his down off his shoulders, letting it fall in a heavy heap on the floor. Then I start on the buttons of his shirt while he pushes the hem of my blouse up so his fingers can play over the soft skin of my stomach. When the buttons are free, the shirt joins the jacket on the floor, and I have only a brief moment to run my hands over his muscular chest before Grant is pulling my shirt up over my head and tossing it away. Then his arms wind around me, pulling me off the door in order to unclasp my bra. Impatiently, I shrug the annoying piece of clothing off and my bare back hits the door once more.
“I want to touch you so fucking bad,” Grant says, breathing heavily.
I wind my arms around his shoulders and pull him closer, our naked chests touching.
“Then touch me,” I breathe.
His hands are on me, fleeting touches on my hips before one hand reaches up to my left breast, kneading the soft skin and then pinching the nipple into full hardness as my back arches against the door at the sensation.
“Shit,” I hiss.
His other hand wanders lower, dipping under the hem of my jeans before popping the button open and undoing the zipper. He pushes the pants down over my hips along with my panties, and both items fall to the floor so I can step out of them and kick them away.
Blindly, I reach out to find his pants. I don’t know how I manage to undo them while he’s touching me like this, because I can’t even think straight, and I know he knows it from the grin on his face while my fingers tremble on his skin. But then his pants and then his boxers are falling, and his naked body presses against mine, his rock hard erection already leaking.
I would have him right here. But I don’t want to have sex against my front door. It’s already going to be difficult enough to look at it and not remember what has happened here tonight. So I pull away.
“Bedroom,” I groan. “We need to go to the bedroom.”
Grant shudders. And then he steps back, pulling me off the door.
“Yeah,” he says. “A bed sounds good.” He takes another step back. “Tell me what you want me to do to you in that bed.”
Oh god, I’m never going to be able to sleep again without remembering this night, am I? I groan at the idea.
“I want you to fuck me,” I moan.
“I’m going to fuck you hard,” he promises.
We’re going to have to talk about this in the morning. Our date, having sex, where we want to do from here. But, as we stumble toward the bedroom, I decide that none of that matters right now. All I want is Grant’s touch.
We can worry about the rest of it later.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maybe we shouldn’t be jumping in so fast. Jessica and I both know that, and I know she really meant coffee when she invited me up.
But I also wasn’t lying about how long I’ve wanted to touch her. Feeling her
hand in mine was good, and it gave me a pleasant warmth that was quickly tickled into a flame with how close she was sitting next to me in the theater. Her leg was pressed against mine, her shoulder brushing mine every time she reached for her drink or for a handful of popcorn. I barely remember the movie at all, because I was completely focused on her and her body.
I wasn’t going to do anything about it. This was a date to get to know each other. The smart thing would have been to drop her off and then head home so I can process everything I’ve learned tonight. But then she invited me up to her apartment, and I wasn’t been able to resist following up, maybe hoping to learn more about her.