Unconditional
Page 11

 Melody Grace

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He reaches my lips, brushing back and forth with the rough pad of his thumb. I gasp for air, my eyes still locked on his. I see a flash of desire, raw on his face, and then he softly presses down and slides his thumb into my mouth.
Dear Lord.
I can taste him, feel the texture of his skin, rasping against my tongue. A fresh bolt of liquid heat shudders through me and I sway closer, overwhelmed. Every sense is overpowered, drowning in him, his nearness, his touch, and those deep, midnight eyes, burning with shadows and desire, a mirror of the yearning I feel in every cell, calling out to him.
I want him, like I’ve never wanted a man before.
Garrett teases my lips wide, lowering his face to mine until I can feel every breath, hear the low whisper of his words.
“Never in a million years, is that right, princess?”
What?
I look up to find the heavy-lidded desire gone from his face, and in its place, amusement.
“Any time you need that itch scratching, you just let me know.” Garrett winks, as if he can see just how turned on I am right now, panting for his touch. “It’ll be a chore, but I guess I could take one for the team.”
I reel back, fury flooding through me. “You…you…!” I splutter, lost for words. I can still feel the treacherous heat of desire swirling through me, but that just makes it worse. He was playing me, to prove some kind of point.
And I fell for it.
Again!
“Well, I’ve got a busy day ahead of me.” Garrett yawns and stretches, casual as can be. “You take care now.”
I finally manage to find my voice. “Go to hell!” I yell at him, shaking with anger—furious at him, but more so at myself. For letting my defenses slip, for giving in to that desperate need I have to feel something, anything at all, even if it is with the last man on earth I should be considering.
“My pleasure.”
He winks and saunters back into the house. A moment later, I hear the door slam, and the sound of his engine in the front yard.
I stand on the porch, my breath coming fast. What the hell was he playing at? Trying his best to get me all wound up, and then…
And then what? I scold myself. You fell for it, hook line and sinker.
I try to calm the race of adrenaline in my bloodstream—and the curl of lust, hot between my thighs. I’m lucky it turned out to be a game, or I’d be na**d by now, and in way more of a mess than when I started.
Naked, gasping, navigating the perfect planes of his body—
No!
I grit my teeth and swear not to let my desire get the better of me again. Garrett Sawyer is trouble, through and through. Now that I know his game, I’ll be prepared for any other tricks he’s got hidden up his sleeve.
If he would put on a damn shirt for once.
4
What the hell are you thinking? Carina McKenzie is off limits.
I stride away from her before she can see how rattled I am, waiting until I’m safe in the front seat of my truck before I let out a breath of pure desire.
Damn.
I only meant to tease her, push her buttons some more as payback for being such a judgmental bitch, but once I got close, gazing into those bright blue eyes, I couldn’t stop myself reaching out for a touch of her silken skin.
And then it all went to hell.
Lust hit me like a tire-iron, and suddenly, I didn’t care about the girl I just packed out the door only an hour before. I didn’t care about the stuffed-shirt of a fiancé she’s got waiting back home. All I wanted was her. To capture those perfect pink lips with my own, to taste her, tease her. Drive her so crazy with desire she forgot this bitching, and all her stuck-up complaints. I wanted to see her come undone, crying out, so caught up in ecstasy she forgot her own name—
I slam the steering wheel with a groan.
What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t stand the girl, she’s nothing but a stuck-up, drama queen bitch!
I take a gulp of air and turn my key in the ignition, backing out of the driveway past her fancy new BMW. What she’s even doing in Beachwood Bay is anyone’s guess. She’s the last person I expected to find showing up in the middle of the night like that. She probably thought she’d find some chi-chi beach hideaway to do her nails and catch up on fashion magazines. I’d bet a hundred bucks she won’t be there when I get back tonight.
I wouldn’t blame her.
I replay the scene on the porch again as I drive through town, remembering the dazed look of intoxicating desire on her face—and then the flash of anger when I turned the tables and pretended like it was all just a game.
I feel a stab of guilt. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone so far, but Carina finds a way to push my buttons, she always does. That sniping about Lorna, and what a man-whore I am—it was just like the wedding. She acts like she’s so much better than me, like I’m nothing to her, it just makes me want to show her how wrong she is—that this strange chemistry works both ways, and she wants me just as much as I want her.
I don’t understand it. Girls like Carina have never been my type. Sure, she’s beautiful, but that kind of beauty is all make-up and fake smiles; it’s like they spend all their time pretending to be someone else, and there’s nothing left under the surface at all. They don’t know how to feel, or know themselves, and once you get them in bed…
Well, it’s all fake  p**n y moans and writhing, like they’re performing for someone who isn’t even there.
But Carina…I see a flash of those blue eyes, wide with lust, her perfect pink lips parted, her breath coming fast.