He wedged one thigh between her legs, then lifted his head to suck in air because he’d just verified it.
No panties.
Slowly, dragging out the suspense, he slid his hands down to her hips, holding her still while he wedged in closer to her.
All but straddling his thigh, she stared up at him, her gaze smoky, her lips parted.
He fought it...and lost. Keeping her pinned to the wall, he reached beneath the loose shirt to find warm flesh. Bringing his hands up her body, he raised the shirt so that his hard abs were against her smooth belly, and, God, that was sweet.
“I know women,” he repeated against her throat. “Groupies who come after all the fighters. Women who just want a good time. Women who hope to tie me down.”
“I don’t want to hear about them,” she whispered, moving subtly, already aroused.
Knotting his hands in either side of the shirt, he pulled it up more until her br**sts were bared.
“I know how to read women. I know how to read you. You’re different from all the rest.” He breathed hard, then bent to draw on one nipple.
Yvette reacted immediately, arching her back, sinking her hands into his hair. Going on basic carnal instinct more than good common sense, he hooked an arm under her ass and lifted her up.
She wrapped her legs around him.
This was no slow tease. He sucked at her breast, relishing her broken groans, how she twisted against him.
Bracing one hand on the wall by her head, he ground against her.
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh...” Her voice rose. “Cannon.”
He was about to tear off his shorts and to hell with consequences when Yvette’s phone rang.
The sound didn’t entirely cut through the lust, but it did slow him down.
“No,” she said, her tone pleading. “Cannon, please.”
The phone stopped ringing.
He’d just about convinced himself to seal the deal when it started again.
Then again.
She groaned loudly.
“It must be important,” he reasoned. “You blocked Heath, right?”
She looked near tears. “Yes.”
Torn over what to do, he stepped away from the wall, still holding her, and went to the couch. He sat with her on his lap, facing him, and snagged the phone with one hand.
Using his thumb, he answered. “Hello?”
Silence, before an outraged woman demanded with a touch of panic, “Where’s Yvette? Is she all right? Who is this?”
“She’s right here,” Cannon soothed. “She’s fine.” Very fine. “Who’s calling?”
“I asked first.”
So he had to play? “Cannon Colter.”
“Oh.”
She knew of him? “Your turn.”
“Vanity Baker.”
Ah, her friend from Cali. Wondering how much Yvette had told her, he said, “Nice to meet you, even if only via cell phone.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” She made a whistling sound, then said, “Is Yvette there listening?”
“Right here, yeah.” About as close as a clothed woman could get.
“The thing is...I have news about her a-hole ex, so do me a favor and stick around, okay?”
Cannon liked her protectiveness, but not her timing.
Or maybe that was spot-on. too, considering he’d just told himself to move more cautiously, which sure as hell didn’t include banging her against the wall with very little finesse.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he told Vanity.
“Yeah? Good to know.”
Yvette watched the exchange with minimal interest. Of course, she straddled his lap and was still breathing hard, so...he cupped her breast and watched her eyes sink shut.
She was every bit as turned on as him, evidenced by the way she kept squirming on his erection.
But, damn it, he didn’t want to leave her fractured with need. With regret, he arranged her shirt so that it fully covered her again.
Yvette groaned again.
“So, Cannon,” Vanity said. “My girl tells me you’re some badass fighter or something.”
He smiled. “Or something.”
“You’re also heroic, right?”
Yvette was starting to look suspicious, so Cannon suggested, “Why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind, Vanity?”
“Let me talk to Yvette first.”
“Hang on.” He held the phone down against the couch. “It’s your friend Vanity.”
Yvette started to move off his lap, but he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. With a hand on her hip, he stayed her, then caressed. “I like holding you.”
She bit her lip, took the phone from him and lifted it to her ear. “Hey, Vanity.”
“Why didn’t you answer last night?”
Since she’d accidentally just put the phone on speaker, Cannon heard Vanity loud and clear.
Blushing, Yvette said, “I was...”
“What? What were you doing? O. M. G. You did the nasty, didn’t you?” She squealed. “Tell me. Details.”
“Vanity—”
She gasped. “You’re in bed with him now, aren’t you? That’s why he answered?” Another squeal. “Was it hot? Have you been converted? Are you now among the must-have-it crowd?”
Yvette looked so flustered that Cannon grinned. Clearly Vanity knew some of the details.
“His voice is dreamy,” Vanity continued before Yvette could get a word in edgewise. “Tell me the bod matches.”
No panties.
Slowly, dragging out the suspense, he slid his hands down to her hips, holding her still while he wedged in closer to her.
All but straddling his thigh, she stared up at him, her gaze smoky, her lips parted.
He fought it...and lost. Keeping her pinned to the wall, he reached beneath the loose shirt to find warm flesh. Bringing his hands up her body, he raised the shirt so that his hard abs were against her smooth belly, and, God, that was sweet.
“I know women,” he repeated against her throat. “Groupies who come after all the fighters. Women who just want a good time. Women who hope to tie me down.”
“I don’t want to hear about them,” she whispered, moving subtly, already aroused.
Knotting his hands in either side of the shirt, he pulled it up more until her br**sts were bared.
“I know how to read women. I know how to read you. You’re different from all the rest.” He breathed hard, then bent to draw on one nipple.
Yvette reacted immediately, arching her back, sinking her hands into his hair. Going on basic carnal instinct more than good common sense, he hooked an arm under her ass and lifted her up.
She wrapped her legs around him.
This was no slow tease. He sucked at her breast, relishing her broken groans, how she twisted against him.
Bracing one hand on the wall by her head, he ground against her.
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh...” Her voice rose. “Cannon.”
He was about to tear off his shorts and to hell with consequences when Yvette’s phone rang.
The sound didn’t entirely cut through the lust, but it did slow him down.
“No,” she said, her tone pleading. “Cannon, please.”
The phone stopped ringing.
He’d just about convinced himself to seal the deal when it started again.
Then again.
She groaned loudly.
“It must be important,” he reasoned. “You blocked Heath, right?”
She looked near tears. “Yes.”
Torn over what to do, he stepped away from the wall, still holding her, and went to the couch. He sat with her on his lap, facing him, and snagged the phone with one hand.
Using his thumb, he answered. “Hello?”
Silence, before an outraged woman demanded with a touch of panic, “Where’s Yvette? Is she all right? Who is this?”
“She’s right here,” Cannon soothed. “She’s fine.” Very fine. “Who’s calling?”
“I asked first.”
So he had to play? “Cannon Colter.”
“Oh.”
She knew of him? “Your turn.”
“Vanity Baker.”
Ah, her friend from Cali. Wondering how much Yvette had told her, he said, “Nice to meet you, even if only via cell phone.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” She made a whistling sound, then said, “Is Yvette there listening?”
“Right here, yeah.” About as close as a clothed woman could get.
“The thing is...I have news about her a-hole ex, so do me a favor and stick around, okay?”
Cannon liked her protectiveness, but not her timing.
Or maybe that was spot-on. too, considering he’d just told himself to move more cautiously, which sure as hell didn’t include banging her against the wall with very little finesse.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he told Vanity.
“Yeah? Good to know.”
Yvette watched the exchange with minimal interest. Of course, she straddled his lap and was still breathing hard, so...he cupped her breast and watched her eyes sink shut.
She was every bit as turned on as him, evidenced by the way she kept squirming on his erection.
But, damn it, he didn’t want to leave her fractured with need. With regret, he arranged her shirt so that it fully covered her again.
Yvette groaned again.
“So, Cannon,” Vanity said. “My girl tells me you’re some badass fighter or something.”
He smiled. “Or something.”
“You’re also heroic, right?”
Yvette was starting to look suspicious, so Cannon suggested, “Why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind, Vanity?”
“Let me talk to Yvette first.”
“Hang on.” He held the phone down against the couch. “It’s your friend Vanity.”
Yvette started to move off his lap, but he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. With a hand on her hip, he stayed her, then caressed. “I like holding you.”
She bit her lip, took the phone from him and lifted it to her ear. “Hey, Vanity.”
“Why didn’t you answer last night?”
Since she’d accidentally just put the phone on speaker, Cannon heard Vanity loud and clear.
Blushing, Yvette said, “I was...”
“What? What were you doing? O. M. G. You did the nasty, didn’t you?” She squealed. “Tell me. Details.”
“Vanity—”
She gasped. “You’re in bed with him now, aren’t you? That’s why he answered?” Another squeal. “Was it hot? Have you been converted? Are you now among the must-have-it crowd?”
Yvette looked so flustered that Cannon grinned. Clearly Vanity knew some of the details.
“His voice is dreamy,” Vanity continued before Yvette could get a word in edgewise. “Tell me the bod matches.”
