He was offended? Full of accusation, she went on tiptoes and leaned into his anger. “You did! You told her my entire history!”
“Never happened, and you should know that.”
The whispered words, said through his teeth, stole her anger. She dropped back to her heels. “But...then, how?”
“No way for me to know. But Heath was at the bar. There’s a damn good chance he talked to her.”
All her most prevalent emotions—anger, umbrage, hurt—crashed in on her. “I never told it all to Heath.”
“He’s here. It’s not a secret. If he did any digging—”
“You’re probably right.”
He took her shoulders again. “Instead of thinking it through, you automatically believed that I’d told her?”
“She led me to believe...” Yvette rubbed her temple. How many ways could she botch things in a twenty-four-hour period? “I’m sorry.” When he didn’t reply, she added, “For everything.”
Hopefully after a few hours’ sleep, things would look better, because at that moment, she couldn’t imagine them getting any worse.
She stood there, unsure what to do next, dreading making another wrong move.
“You think I want a quick lay?” With heart-stopping tenderness, Cannon stroked over her hair, moved it behind her shoulders so he could better see her br**sts. “You think once I get inside you, I’ll be done?”
The way he looked at her now... She shook her head. No, she hadn’t thought that. Not until Mindi had spelled it out to her. Then it had seemed all too plausible. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think anymore.”
He lifted her chin. “Guess there’s only one way to find out for sure.”
The words, combined with that particular heated look, had her pulse leaping. “You won’t quit on me this time?”
His mouth quirked at her wording. “I can’t.” He levered her away so he could look at every inch of her. While consuming her with his gaze, he murmured, “First time will be fast and hard. Second time might be better. I’m still up in the air on that one.” He drew her close and playfully bit her lower lip. “The third time, though...for sure, that one will be all for you.”
Oh, God, she could hardly wait.
Cannon tumbled her into the bed—and she knew she wouldn’t have to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WARM SOFTNESS, FIRM br**sts, tantalizing dips and hollows and wet kisses—Cannon wanted everything, right now. With Yvette.
He kneed her legs apart and settled over her, his mouth at her throat, his hands frantic on her br**sts. The long day, time spent at the bar and then the turmoil afterward, left her skin rich with her intensified scent. He breathed her in and hurt with wanting her.
He enjoyed her gasping breaths, how she arched into him.
How could she think one time would be enough? He’d run the gamut of emotions today, ending with that mind-numbing rage that had thrown him off-kilter.
He’d still been coming down from that, adrenaline surging, doing his best to comfort her, when she’d decided to make everything sexual.
Mouth open on her skin, he gently ate his way down to her br**sts, sucked in one tight nipple, nursed her while plucking at the other with his fingertips.
She moaned his name, her hands in his hair holding him closer.
It wasn’t enough. Not even close.
Leaving her nipple wet and flushed, he made his way down her torso, teasing her flat belly, her hip bones, inner thigh, then pressing his face against the crotch of her minuscule panties.
Here, her musk was even stronger, drugging him.
His c**k throbbed, ached. He’d wanted her forever, denied himself too long. She was already damp, and he tasted her through the panties, pressing with his tongue, lightly biting.
She tried to twist away, but he held her hips steady. She’d been warned, and she wanted this anyway.
“Cannon,” she said on a whimper.
Sitting up in a rush, he scooped up her legs with one arm, then stripped the panties down and off. Looking at her tormented him. He made himself hold back, savoring the sight of her completely bare. She shifted her feet, pressed her knees together.
“Cannon?”
Using both hands, he opened her thighs wide. Yvette turned her face into the pillow, her hands at either side of her hips.
Such a perfect offering.
His chest worked like a bellows, the pressure building until he oh-so-carefully parted her vulva to further expose her.
So pink and shiny wet. Her inner lips swollen. Her little clitoris ripe and ready.
Groaning, he leaned down and tasted her deeply, thrusting into her with his tongue. His nostrils filled with her excitement. He sucked and licked and taunted with his teeth.
He tried to fight it off, but with each small sound she made, the pressure built inside him.
Accepting that it was now or never, he twisted away to find a condom, then stood and stripped off his boxers.
Yvette didn’t move except to squirm in need. He’d love to hear her come again, to see that unique mix of pain and pleasure on her face.
Doubtful.
With her rapt attention spurring him on, he rolled the condom down his shaft and lowered himself half over her, his hand going immediately between her thighs to stroke two fingers deep.
So ready.
He shifted over her, positioned himself and, teeth locked, began easing into her.
She tipped her head back, offering up her br**sts again.
So f**king beautiful. Not quite there, but definitely cued up. Briefly he mouthed one puckered nipple, then the other, playing her with his tongue, leaving them each red and wet. He watched her through a haze of mounting lust and razor-sharp need. Each broken breath she took, each shiver, the flush on her br**sts, the silkiness of her inner thighs.
“Never happened, and you should know that.”
The whispered words, said through his teeth, stole her anger. She dropped back to her heels. “But...then, how?”
“No way for me to know. But Heath was at the bar. There’s a damn good chance he talked to her.”
All her most prevalent emotions—anger, umbrage, hurt—crashed in on her. “I never told it all to Heath.”
“He’s here. It’s not a secret. If he did any digging—”
“You’re probably right.”
He took her shoulders again. “Instead of thinking it through, you automatically believed that I’d told her?”
“She led me to believe...” Yvette rubbed her temple. How many ways could she botch things in a twenty-four-hour period? “I’m sorry.” When he didn’t reply, she added, “For everything.”
Hopefully after a few hours’ sleep, things would look better, because at that moment, she couldn’t imagine them getting any worse.
She stood there, unsure what to do next, dreading making another wrong move.
“You think I want a quick lay?” With heart-stopping tenderness, Cannon stroked over her hair, moved it behind her shoulders so he could better see her br**sts. “You think once I get inside you, I’ll be done?”
The way he looked at her now... She shook her head. No, she hadn’t thought that. Not until Mindi had spelled it out to her. Then it had seemed all too plausible. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think anymore.”
He lifted her chin. “Guess there’s only one way to find out for sure.”
The words, combined with that particular heated look, had her pulse leaping. “You won’t quit on me this time?”
His mouth quirked at her wording. “I can’t.” He levered her away so he could look at every inch of her. While consuming her with his gaze, he murmured, “First time will be fast and hard. Second time might be better. I’m still up in the air on that one.” He drew her close and playfully bit her lower lip. “The third time, though...for sure, that one will be all for you.”
Oh, God, she could hardly wait.
Cannon tumbled her into the bed—and she knew she wouldn’t have to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WARM SOFTNESS, FIRM br**sts, tantalizing dips and hollows and wet kisses—Cannon wanted everything, right now. With Yvette.
He kneed her legs apart and settled over her, his mouth at her throat, his hands frantic on her br**sts. The long day, time spent at the bar and then the turmoil afterward, left her skin rich with her intensified scent. He breathed her in and hurt with wanting her.
He enjoyed her gasping breaths, how she arched into him.
How could she think one time would be enough? He’d run the gamut of emotions today, ending with that mind-numbing rage that had thrown him off-kilter.
He’d still been coming down from that, adrenaline surging, doing his best to comfort her, when she’d decided to make everything sexual.
Mouth open on her skin, he gently ate his way down to her br**sts, sucked in one tight nipple, nursed her while plucking at the other with his fingertips.
She moaned his name, her hands in his hair holding him closer.
It wasn’t enough. Not even close.
Leaving her nipple wet and flushed, he made his way down her torso, teasing her flat belly, her hip bones, inner thigh, then pressing his face against the crotch of her minuscule panties.
Here, her musk was even stronger, drugging him.
His c**k throbbed, ached. He’d wanted her forever, denied himself too long. She was already damp, and he tasted her through the panties, pressing with his tongue, lightly biting.
She tried to twist away, but he held her hips steady. She’d been warned, and she wanted this anyway.
“Cannon,” she said on a whimper.
Sitting up in a rush, he scooped up her legs with one arm, then stripped the panties down and off. Looking at her tormented him. He made himself hold back, savoring the sight of her completely bare. She shifted her feet, pressed her knees together.
“Cannon?”
Using both hands, he opened her thighs wide. Yvette turned her face into the pillow, her hands at either side of her hips.
Such a perfect offering.
His chest worked like a bellows, the pressure building until he oh-so-carefully parted her vulva to further expose her.
So pink and shiny wet. Her inner lips swollen. Her little clitoris ripe and ready.
Groaning, he leaned down and tasted her deeply, thrusting into her with his tongue. His nostrils filled with her excitement. He sucked and licked and taunted with his teeth.
He tried to fight it off, but with each small sound she made, the pressure built inside him.
Accepting that it was now or never, he twisted away to find a condom, then stood and stripped off his boxers.
Yvette didn’t move except to squirm in need. He’d love to hear her come again, to see that unique mix of pain and pleasure on her face.
Doubtful.
With her rapt attention spurring him on, he rolled the condom down his shaft and lowered himself half over her, his hand going immediately between her thighs to stroke two fingers deep.
So ready.
He shifted over her, positioned himself and, teeth locked, began easing into her.
She tipped her head back, offering up her br**sts again.
So f**king beautiful. Not quite there, but definitely cued up. Briefly he mouthed one puckered nipple, then the other, playing her with his tongue, leaving them each red and wet. He watched her through a haze of mounting lust and razor-sharp need. Each broken breath she took, each shiver, the flush on her br**sts, the silkiness of her inner thighs.
